Spectre
Consequence of creation
Like hands of time
But fragile like dust
Turns to spectre
Wandering aimlessly
In its search for reflections
On quicksand
The Sun
Like wolf
Watching from above
Howling the black sound
Leading the spectre astray
Walking
The brassladen trail
Afraid to hear the raven’s cry
Azure burial
It feels
From the day first
Ageless threnody
Sing at the shores of the end
Bereft
In its animation
Ebbing from horizon to oblivion
Epoch of brightness has passed
Darkness descends
Ominously
Epoch of brightness has passed
Darkness descends
Like wolf
Mateusz Turowski
