Hope seeks to breathe beyond the walls,
Laboured and empty the effort falls,
Her heart, recanting passion's song-
Beats wildly as though to right a wrong.
Could it be she lives to weep
Over love that never dared to keep
The promise it whispered to her plight
Through that dark and frigid winter night?
Engulphed by fear the statue tries,
To kill it's pride, and end the lies.
To cultivate a heart of flesh again,
And stand humbly beside mortal men.
The clouds mock the sun, and it's life-giving light,
They hold back their torrents, though not from sight.
Below the flora withers in parched repine,
Waiting for a single teardrop to resign.
Copyright © Yvonne Evanoff | Year Posted 2011