You must login to vote
As I lie here in my hollow resting place,
And hear the infant evening slowly wake,
Though buried, I long to meet face to face
That destiny that caused my soul to ache.
It started slow, with a simple sound,
Like ivory keys exorcising dark tones.
With no joy visible for miles around,
I shivered violently amidst my silver bones.
Strains of sharp isolation pricked the sky.
Flowers, burned, share their grief with none.
A broken harp. I hear angels cry.
The sky bleeds drops of crimson sun.
I hear you humming, close above;
Dry earth drums on me, like righteous clay.
I always sensed that it was my refrain you loved;
I should know – it is on my bones you play.
Servitas a Periculum
Servatis a Maleficum