The walls pass away
And I weep to stone,
Murmuring through marble lips,
Can you hear my granite cry?
Grinding above the ground,
Through the air, to your ear:
“Our Love is worth Medusa’s wrath.”
A banshee shriek,
A heart set to mode of dream
As I cremate to dust at your feet.
Kiss my embers,
And cast me into the wind,
I’ll return again, return again
When the Autumn catches
Its Winter cold,
When the frosted breeze
Unleashes its gust, its rust of reign.
Look for me, Look for me
In our garden parlor
Where our hearts met
And I was turned to stone.
YOU ARE READING
Stonery Heart
PoetryWell, here's the first poem I shall show you. I wrote it on December first, the one year anniversary of my great tragedy, my first taste of forbidden love, the fuse of decapitating mental illness. Well, here it is, for Him, always for Him...
