DISSIPATION
As the leeward hillside darkens
A canvas of lightless entrapment broadens its grip
Weary be to those who trespass upon this entrenchment
As too they will become prey to their own folly
Heather sways gently in a Siren’s song of the night calling
Bewitched in austere wonder
Fall not to the dancing chorus blades of green
Spell-cast the intruder calls to collect his coin
A vintage rare is what he seeks
Is this the finale of a life lived in overt delusion
Stars look upon the scene without blinking
Struck by the awkward beauty in transfixed hypnosis
Whoa be the wicked found here tonight
Rivers of sadness will surely spill their banks
Rivulets seek solace
Yet here there is none to be found
Earthly creatures burrow deeper to avoid the conflict
Reverberations reach down as if to call and torment
Fog billows in as a blanket of concealment
Never meant for the living eye
The task at hand is won
He snares his quarry
And, with a faceless smirk he retreats with the prize
Kevin Parish 
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