The Fool’s Ledge
The candles wait upon the floor,
For steps that never cross the door.
They light a fire meant to blind,
To steal the silence from the mind.
A mirror shows the world ahead,
A crimson thread you learn to tread.
But as you touch the glass to speak,
The edges break, the wood is weak.
The jester’s smile is carved in stone,
While counting all that you have known.
He turns his back on morning light,
And leaves your ghost to face the night.
— Dil
I have been working on this since March 28th. I hate April's 1st, and loathe the month of April.
#poetry #poem #literature #bookstodon #fediverse #aprilfools #aprilfoolsday #april





