Treasure Island

David McLansky

(5/24/1944 / New York City)

The Cloak


The Cloak

Give to me
Your web of sorrow
And I will weave it
On the morrow
Into a cloth of shimmering gold
Interlaced with spells of old,
Chants against the days of sadness,
Armor for the days of madness;
Protecting hearts not meant to be
Stunned by life's harsh threnody.

Submitted: Thursday, November 22, 2012
Edited: Saturday, January 05, 2013
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