Maria Drew
she lit the candle,
watched the wick kindle
but as the flame burst forth
the wind by windows fought-
But alas! the flame, stabbed
wavered for life, but sabbed
soon faltered and died.
The drapes rise and fall
the wind hurries at four wall
and another match lit
by its glow she saw it-
The pale face, withered smile
there lies her heart, off a-mile
away to the towered end-
Yet still the flame died astern.
The scream through the night-
the call of the wild a-flight
as a heart is stabbed anew
by the despair of Maria Drew.
Copyright © NGT NGT | Year Posted 2013
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