Needless Things: Deathly Luminescense

In twilight’s breath, where shadows seep, A silver hush begins to creep. The stars hang low with ghostly grace, And moonlight scars the ocean’s face.

A lantern sways in hollow air, Its glow too pale, too cold to care. It casts no warmth, it stirs no breeze— Just whispers lost among the trees.

The light is not of mortal flame, But born of things without a name. It flickers in the eyes of crows, And hums where buried sorrow grows.

Beneath its shine, the flowers wilt, Their colors drained, their silence gilt. Yet still it calls, with siren gleam, To haunt the corners of a dream.

Oh beauty dressed in death’s own veil, You dance where lesser spirits pale. A luminance not meant to bless But crown the dark with loveliness. NNN