Music of Sorrow
Astride her raft of ancient bones,
she stands in proud defiance.
She will accept no challenge to her will,
nothing but total compliance,
with blooded bow grasped in hand
and death besides her does stand.
She plays with liquid grace
leading her deathly band.
The darkness of her beauty
shadows the morning light.
The music she composes
sings prelude to the night.
Beguiling queen; no innocence
prevails her icy glare.
A heart in-cased in winters grip,
no remorse, no pity; no cares.
Your cries are percussion to her tune
~the song of death, dismay~
The epilogue of her performance
a symphony of decay.
So bow your head, kiss her feet
in the hypnotic intent of her art
in this the orchestra of death
you now must play a part.
Copyright © Colin Marschall | Year Posted 2006
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