The Whetstone

Patrick W. Marsh
The shimmering blade whipped clean,
A breaking daylight upon the dream.
So comes the start of the new day.
Rising, rising, the melting horizon.
To where the birds await,
The proper time to serenade.
And then we rise
The creatures from the night and day.
And slowly the lane opens and we make our way
As if this grandest gift,
Were so hard to give away.
Then night comes in a shadow mist.
And the day becomes this,
Nothing more then a memory.

Published by Patrick W. Marsh

A science fiction fantasy writer from Minnesota. Currently finishing the final draft of a novel and publishing consistently on Associated Content. Completely obsessed with creative writing and producing wri...  View profile

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