Autumn Augury

A certain chanting entered the mind.


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Autumn Augury
Pulled from night is the torch that lovers dream by,
Torn from day is the light that keeps us spinning,
Dazed while summer’s pregnant with a sickly fall,
The rats crawl in circles and cease their breeding.
Soreness of dreams tells of a dirge soon coming.
Hubris warns not to pin prophecies on fear.
Theories rise from the lust to be cheered and known.
Silence keeps council alone and gets stomped on.
Lovers seek the birds but wings have gone to soup.
Songs are saved on screens; time will snuff machines.