withered

i'm here while you're there
whilst the devil may care
while our weary way
wastes away,
wears away at the will,
withers and wanes

warped is this wasteland
wicked is the wind that wafts to me whimpering
loud is the wailing and weeping
the boughs of the willow hang low
the eyelids won't waken
the waited-for words won't be whispered
not ever, not now

alas, for these dwindling wisps of hope

all the while wishing,
walled-in and war torn
to be weaned of worries wounded,
downcast and forlorn,
to walk and not wallow,
for woes that won't follow,
the whims of this world 'way to go
but they won't, no they won't
but i will
wake no more to wonder,
wander wanton,
down trails always winding,
forgotten,
to weightlessly wait
till the weakness pervading
withdraws its inevitable toll

the waves of the oceans are gaining
the waxing moon soon'll be full
wild-eyed in this wilderness,
away whatever i've witnessed
whomever i found,
the wares on my shoulders weigh heavy
the shackles, wrists, ankles so worn
come are the waters of winter
to drown; dissolved in the wake no more frown
for one sweet blessed moment
as i’m swallowed i feel i’m reborn