dimgray

The Journey Home

Where the stars wandered, there the grass withered.
Wafting into a cold night, shifting shadows cause fright.
“Across the moonlit, did a dragon flit?”
Sobered up from carouse, remembered Papa’s house.
Threadbare my sandals, robbed bare by rascals.
“Loathe and lust, wrath and dust!”
Brittle crimson earth, little need of myrrh.
Sorely did I tread, surely my last deed.