The night is a tender island
A promise
Caught in a feverish dawn
Of manipulation
The layers / the thin film coverings
That burst at blossom depth
Hold the answer
Sliver streams flow beside the temple of death
For we are the cave dwellers
Sadly we die in reckless grandeur
Redness of a baby’s pale blue breath
Take my hand
She said within a soft whisper of a sin
The dark horse gallops to the sun
Mad is the children, mad the young ones
The old ones/ the everyone’s
We are the labyrinth
Entangled within the web of a velvet maze
The angelic wings are broken
Like Icarus
For I have flown too near
The edge of
The sun..
- Ken Riccio original poems ©
