Melancholy
Melancholy
A black bile veil becomes the widow -
Her euphoric beauty, now cursed.
Onyx gloves cover her silky soft hands.
Her tears, like wax, permanently fixed.
An imminent dark cloud covers her heart.
It never rains, just simmers in sadness.
Stoicism plays its game, never again smiling
The widow derides all tidings of gladness.
2nd place winner
Contest:Melancholy
9/25/2016
Copyright © Kim Rodrigues | Year Posted 2016
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