WHISPERS

Whispers
shouted in the glow
of that dusk
I’ve learn to know.

Tomorrow is that beast
bring oft
far too much
the emptiness feast.

Light is the fire
that blooms
in the middle of a doom.

For me
there is only sadness
incurable
never promising a hint of gladness
in the fleeting mist
which I see
as the doorway
unto my
rescuing room.