Rust

TO WEAKNESSES :

 may knell my sweatest hope in decays of storm's empty call
at sundown's darkly hours

it poured winter's grey

The graceless hand of DOOM

beneath its opened door

on great wheel - its chains

to lifeless may enthrone

their crimson fate

and anguish

to its trail of Death

may blossom violent prays

and tired of elder Child of Time

to  heartless cries of ashes

VELVET NOTES BY Maude