Last Rites

Frozen body in
         in the icy river
A young woman 
          met her fate early
She wanted freedom 
    But she found      
Let the night come
   A single candle burning 
cuts through the gloom
In lands of shadow 
Where can a soul find peace?
    Old answers no longer 
suffice 
    As the old tent - maker said:
"...sultan after sultan 
with his pomp
abode his hour or two and went his way"
Copyright © | Year Posted 2009

Poem

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Buys Avatar
July 10, 2009 at 6:28 AM
Wonderful atmosphere conveying the loss and sadness of so many lonely people. Very well written. Regards Heidie
Melinda Avatar
July 9, 2009 at 1:54 AM
An exceptional poem.
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