A Broken Heart
Nascent dawn's pale omen loomed
and eased me from my pensive trance.
But I am stirred
beyond expression’s means—
my face suffused with tears.
Mercifully, stolid memory
desists in part,
dread recall’s threat
impounded by advancing age.
My conscience then begs destiny,
pressing to undo.
But heaven spares not its majesty,
and history,
ever breathing in,
refuses to exhale,
a broken heart to salve.
Grimly, I stand and take a single step,
and one more after that.
3rd Place, Giorgio's Impress me II ! ( Old/New )
Copyright © Mark Peterson | Year Posted 2013
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