May 30 2013
True to Honour
Presenting black on faded gray
A life was born and slipped away
then held me as an ancient page;
left there to die, to rust, to age.
A flower spun between the skies
and stayed beneath a pink disguise –
until I brought my life to you
and felt the petals bleeding, too.
Return the jester to his queen
Deny love chance to intervene
And leave the spikes to carve his death…
no heart was there (no heart was left)
Indeed the years sped by like trains:
I caught the sunshine in my veins.
Between the heat and edge and pain
I found true love but once again.
A trail must fight to hide and send
my claws were out – but old and bent.
The bones were broken – they were gray;
and that’s all I could see that day.
And true to honour, bound to oath,
I found a new hatred to loath.
A circled age of boundless dread
found one less heart that never bled.
Tentacles would grip and kill
and tear out all my stubborn will.
Despite a lack of sympathy,
I took the petals home with me.
The flowers bloomed, but never grew.
And like the petals, I died, too.
I’d sworn on gods as old as time
and fine’ly, now, I’m only mine.
Not often something strikes me so. Thank you for this, Truly.