The Mask It Lies Still Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
The Mask It Lies Still
The
Mask
It
Lies
Still
Breathless
Yellow
Pale
It
Be
The night
Not in the cemetery
But
The
Mask
Of
A
Sudden
Slowly breathes.
Too late
Too late
The spell be far
Away
Gone
Binoculars spied
The coming Dawn
The coming day.
The waters that
Rustled
Rocks
At
Night
By the old fort
Are
Now
Subdued
And
Tame
Before the reign
Oncoming reign
Of Dawn
New blood warm of
New day.
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5/6/2024 2:35:45 PM # 1.0.0.1119
