The Hearth

Black top clouds on this crimson daze
where I stood running away 
counting pebbles glazed in wax
spinal trees wrecks upon the jagged breeze
Felt that skin the cloth I wore before
iron vessels drove against that driven shore
now no castles crest the horizon blind
Judged oceans line with beating drum
energy stitched for ease of case
travel inwards on floated clean polished bone
tasted dance with splinter encased throne
So much is lost in the sight
flowering scented thought
smuggles its secrets past a haunted heart
Hearth waits
seated ancient 
it waits