Barbéque

Fatigue thrives
Patience dwindles
Too much said and sung on rose
Now I serenade of yellow leaves
And that withered trunk
O, they are not wow metaphors
Not conducive to ears
Yet I will sing the black
Not rain but volcano be invoked
Pain be barbecued
Roasting chirps
By the lake side
Wolves do the jamming
I being their feast
©jeyforyou

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