Purveyor of Tall Tales.

Never-day Echo

Never-day Echo
By Neil Beynon

Words hide in the witching hour.
Rainbows sleep,
Stars gone far away.
Footsteps echo on empty streets
To locked gates of a never-day.

Trains roar against the dawn
As the jukebox plays 3AM.
The glass is full of yellow-brick road.
The bone moon hides its cards.

Wishes jump at the walls of the well,
Trapped between the fire and the black.
A dragon in the dark,
Sitting upon the silence.

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