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Brittle beaten warriors

Starlight swallows sense

There is an artistic shroud
That settles like star dust
Over the dark encrusted
Brittle beaten warriors
Who seek a sample
Of Sanctuary
From the speckled light
Hoping for more than illumination
Entrusting a way
Towards a new and solid path.

If they can’t find it soon
Then can we share
Their scrap of hope
As the barrel bottom dregs
Creates moisture effigies
Of our misery
So that we can visualise
Our actualities
Whilst our spirits
Finally get the picture.

At some point
It’s prudent to hang hats
And embark on a new trail
Than persist in the face of futility.

If our egos will allow it.

More Poetry

Next week, another poem and then a little Satire.  You have been warned.
Hope you have a good week, and that the Virus is not messing with your life, again.

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