Withering Scent Poem by Casey A Geiger

Wither a scent from an ice dream to lye on,
Under a tree on the soft Earth I cry on,
Greed freezes the world for a well reasoned death,
As dark and light choices force each heavey breath,
Be grace gift my body to a spirit of ease,
No other, no beggar, not better to please,
My dreams are a power I can not elude,
An enlightment of life we all should include,
Master your emotions, call it your mastery,
Its an art long forgotten like the power of honesty,
Stride little by little, don't relish so deep,
For a clear empty head you will find better sleep,
In both life and death your eyes have to close,
As you enter a realm that your spirit has chose,
Sitting, these tears as they rest on my cheek,
Not another than other came an angel to speak,
To wither this dream in this tear as it dwell,
And off as the fear, made it clear, as it fell,
There was nothing else there besides my own veiw,
And thoughts of fancies, perhaps untrue.