Epitaph - David McWilliams
Fast as the day
Is winding down
The night
Dark as a river
A mist before my weary eyes
No saviour to deliver
An empty mask
The easel stands
No painter's breath to help her
No priest to be her solitude
No Christ
To be her shelter
Tainted blood
May serve as hate
To those
Who live in waiting
Unborn undead
Time murdered me
A child of her creating
Time
Like a running tomb pursues
Her whispers softly call me
Awake me not
My dreams are done
Let sleep
Forgive my folly
