Fog

Drown my spirit under the gleaming lake of the misty mountains.
Lay my head under this solitary temple.
My heart under the dusty river.
Forgive my mortality, and my natality.
Won't the dying stars take it all back from me?
There's no momentum left to be stunned -
By the withering flowers, and
The dying powers.
There's no dignity left for the heartache -
Of the sacred anatomy.

Their cloudy minds, and stiff bones.
Pushing deep through my soulless crowns.