The dead skull

The rivulet tells the tale of dead flowers

and with them the dead winter in vale

There the fame is skimmed as tame luck

for the footballer who saw the dead skull

but in vain of the days gone by the scheme of death

she sings the song of the dead and bestowed flowers

on her lover’s grave and saw

the magic and epiphany of  hate

bring the dead skulls in season’s wake.

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