Tuesday, January 25, 2011

A woman wept

On hills of misery,
The salty rivers flow.
Glistening dunes don't stem the flow.
On wobbly tips,
Rests a pool of of pity,
A woman wept.

A guttural moan,
No man has known,
Of wounded animals,
Memories her cries invoke.
A cloud so low, a fearful cower,
A woman wept.

No ash, no phoenix.
Fairytales forgotten, hope abandoned
No glass slipper,
No prince to kiss her awake
She wept.

In hopes, in dreams,
This hurt would end.
But in life so real,
Her will depleted,
She fell,
And slept.

Welcome back everyone. :-) And by that I mean me.

2 comments:

  1. Yes. That's more like it. Better second hand than none at all. Better sad than silent. Thank you.

    ReplyDelete

Sew your piece on this patchwork