By Scott Bailey © 2016
Here I abide
Amidst the craters
Of too much cultural shelling
Here there resides
Residual echoes
Of now silent voices
Stranger music silenced
The pale lord voiceless too
Many last departures
Many miss the few
Clinging to the final notes
As lovers do
In dark and empty craters
Bubbles shadiness and greed
A fecund vile concoction
Upon which the beast will feed
Need is the successor
Here where I abide
