Swan Song Singing, Fond Of Fainting Poem by Wes Thompson

I had climbed a great mountain
and burned alive in the sun
in my brother's worst nightmare
my body becomes undone
at the age of convenience
the day is spent without feeling
it's a friendly forever
remaining without believing
snake skins wither into white
rose petals in the night
bleaching sand and pearly bones
of those who tried but couldn't fight
thours that do not sleep between
scolding light and blindest red
flowers born in autumn wait
they know by winter they'll be dead