Ash Crowned Beatitude
They named her frail, fit for ash.
In the abyss, her pulse refused.
Fate cast her, broken, among thorns.
They named her frail, fit for ash.
A survivor bore her past black hush.
Through poison sands, his vow amused.
In the abyss, her pulse refused.
They named her frail, fit for ash.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
