Falkenbach

flocks of birds for sake the barren lands
i'm following suit with idle heart and empty hands
however strong a rock, time and tide will grind it down
to sand and the ground wears its burial gown
with gloom-ridden eyes and shrouded in grief
i shoulder my past to find my final relief
each winter ploughed deeper furrows in my face
the next one is sure to leave its terminal trace
... terminal trace