stroke part 2

lost in silence
wordless
caught within
to dream
a poet can only
try
to scream
in where
time knows
in where
time goes
without tomorrow
desert sand
cold within your command
a long ago
summer defeat
whispers to one
till night echoes bleed
as music
across a morning' drift
from where
dares an artist
draw a breath
no, never death
it's the early light
that calls a soul from
rest
where words carved into wind
are the paint of
tomorrow
for
who knows from where
rhyme blows

- jude