Heart of Woe
Gentle steps of night,
Creep so slowly in thy fear,
A candle shining bright,
A glisten of her tear.
Shadows shown what lies ahead,
Morose in all thy icy morn,
Till the falling night of dread,
Glimmer pale her adorn.
Hopes expire,
With meaning dream,
Wings of fire,
She does gleam.
I ignore naught of breast,
Fair woman body fair,
For in her bed she does rest,
Incense in the air.
Visions past azure sky,
Moon dreams candle set,
Magic of her face on high,
Flower divine at best.
Deep in his heart of woe,
Soul remorseful torturer,
Whence love he must go,
Trailing light capture.
Copyright © Kenneth Fordham | Year Posted 2009
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