Believing the heart to be true to it's calling,
While wrapping it safely in caution's warm quilt,
Flying too close to the flame that entrances,
Hope's wings have been singed both by trust and by guilt.
Forging through pain that had sought to destroy her,
Enveloped in memories she wanders through time,
Revelling in feelings too distant to waken,
Provoking the heart to speak freely in rhyme.
Love can not lend her the courage to fight on,
Memories can't save her, nor send aid to bear,
They stand by her helplessly watching and waiting,
For silence to meet with her cowardice there.
She stands at the door, and yearns to step through it,
To the side of the threshold that pain can not touch,
Her heart beating ardently, longing for refuge,
But refuge at this point is asking too much.
Tomorrow may bring the resolve she so yearns for,
To stand up and walk as though none were aware,
Of the shame, and remorse she's allowed to enslave her,
To break free for all time from this prison of care.
Copyright © Yvonne Evanoff | Year Posted 2011