dark poetry

so fallen
you are beautiful and faded
since i have felt the sense of death
the ships are lying in the bay
she limps with halting painful pace
she knows a cheap release
i have heard them in the night
what do i owe to you
three years ago today
before the solemn bronze saint
that year
the old west, the old time
i saw god. do you doubt it?
high walls and huge