I walk on the old path
just trailing into life’s dust
shaded by ravens blotting my Moon
marking the death of wrath
this peace, patient as rust
formed in vermillion ruin

all my days die the same
into languid sunsets
that ever ask why I languish here
but my answers are maimed
gagged by knotted regrets
that muzzled youthful cheer

and I walk the old road
 dust upon my shoulders
‘neath the crescent shade of raven faith
rust’s mercy that erodes
an old heart that smolders
on a path to my wraith.

I wrote this in the form of a Blood Quill.