|
The Death of a Swan
Stolen waters frozen in time
by winters breath
chilled tombs
the houses of the dead
beauty found among the graves
rigid they stand in the wake
But a hush
with ghost like appeal
in the way the feathers dance
corpse like elegance
for the ones that are
symbols of romance
Gentle are the leaves
that scatter adrift upon the water
where reflections gaze back
with the eyes of the moon
and death
But to embrace
this sweet darkness
feel the pulse it offers
here there dwells the deep
true soul.
10:43 PM - 5/27/2008 -
|
