Ordire ad Fines
A pen falls to the floor.
The words upon the paper
Evaporate into the dense air.
A candle flickers.
An unlit match lies upon the table.
The soft cadence of breath
Seeps from the wraith-like figure
Resting in the arms of Morpheus.
The door sways back and forth
Creaking on its rusted hinges.
The lamp in the hall shines dim,
Shadows waver along the edge of its light.
Footfalls are heard,
Solemnly walking along the empty corridor.
The wind chimes on the hoary porch begin to dance,
Filling the street with the murmurs of angels
Ascending to the star-filled blanket above.
The seraphs' seize their whisperings,
As an unsteady hand chokes the wind.
Their mouth moves with flowing silence,
Running words and feelings through the mind.
The lone figure fades into the night,
Engulfed by the darkness,
Awaiting inspiration to strike.
A/N: Ordire ad Fines: Begin at the End.