I fought for many months in haste through cracked and shattered sky
for vict'ry's sweet elusive taste and beaming of her eye.
She never came when I returned. In fact I was alone.
I found the village sacked and burned and, crying, held her bones.
She always was so elegant that even in her death
I stood, stunned with astonishment and sat with bated breath.
She almost seemed so beautiful, so white with ashen char
as to defy description, just like shadows seeing stars.
I held her for a moment more to cure my inner blight
and then, before departing, i kissed her one last good night.
1 comment:
Yay you put your blog back up! I'm glad. I love this poem by the way, too.
~Annette Janelle Firefly~
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