footprint poem

all within and all without me
in the dark and peace of my final bed
behold me, in my chiffon, gauze and tinsel
the smell of the rose so false, the thorns so true
sweet splendor
truely
the darkness steals the forms of all the queens
rising moon has hid the stars
i saw with open eyes
sun stepped down from his golden throne
in an old chamber softly lit
roses and gold
i cannot always feel his greatness
in the sphere