The final saunter

Perhaps you would stop for a while,
Perhaps your glance would fall
Upon my epitaph,
Perhaps your lips would utter a mumbling
Out of compassion for the lost wayfarer.

Above your head
Will glow the canescent moon
Filling the vale with pale darkness.
The wind will shake the grassland
The shadows still palpitating.

In the hereness of doom
I seek the privilege
Of walking unnoticed
Not knowing if I be.

The bells from the shrine
Tolls through the ether
I long to silence the world;
The end of all outcry
Is to beam upon me.
I am to inhabit
The land of infrangible
Silence and darkness
Relinquishing my being
Commencing my final saunter
Towards the world of void.


2 responses to “The final saunter

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