Fleeting majesty

By Robby Allegretta

His groaning soul lamented on mine;
brisk whimpering in stifled pleas.
A gasp of crystallizing despair


not unlike the evening purple shawl.
A bleak and crumpled cold subdued
what tender, bleating spirit I revered.


Droplets plummeted; a wet nose on my face.
Sinking, sighting mist wept on the ground;
encroaching shadows never less opaque, more concrete.


Distress fathomless, mortally penetrating;
an existential pang- Nightmare incarnate.
Visceral, brooding angst corrodes space-time.


Sudden hints of rapport amidst the Gatekeepers,
machinations to manufacture relief;
seamless seems malevolence and grace.


His stalwart soul so displaced.