Lords of sorrows

A leaking pen of    
Blue ink
Compose sad letters  
that fall into mourning words  
contrast against  
mystic and romantic  
anecdotes that whirl in a frenzied  
dance upon the  
window pane  
they, do not suffice    
to lure you  
from the hurt, you feel  
the dampness of regretful pain,  
Salt weeps  
from your eyes  
to drop  
and crystalise into beautiful  
rocks that I  
collect in my velvet pocket,  
But,  
Summoned magic cannot liberate
your enveloped state  
For the lords of sorrows  
have you caged  
in black stone  
but if you whisper to the wind,  
the name, of your prisoner,  
You will be freed  
so, only then, could we frolic  
in wondrous fields lush in  
love.  
   
11.05.2018