April 3: Compass (#NaPoWriMo #NaPoWriMo2020 #GloPoWriMo #Poetry)



I’ll follow you, my north,

my inscrutable rose bearing

your residual fame,

your casual flame,

your eventual blame.

I’ll follow you, until

you keep me in a box,

dark, your eyes fading

deaf, your ears failing

dead, your heart feigning

defeat. I’ll stop,

for you journey no more.


(Image: Brass Compass)


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