The Lost Ones


     Legends lie under the ground;
Drawn from daylight, they dwell in the dark.
     Covered in plain cloth (once crowned),
Their faces are etched in features stark.

     Who will hail their merits now?
All who adored them have flown away.
     Centuries since their last bow,
None of these spirits knows what to say.

     Hungering for human sight,
Colder than a crow in winter rain,
     Each of them echoes their fright,
Each one becomes a partner in pain.


©2016 Michael Fraley




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