deepundergroundpoetry.com

Your Majesty of Tears

       
The spirit of the mirror        
feeds these years in blood        
it dries quickly,        
marking the place        
where blue skies wither        
and brittle corn sighs dust        
 
In search of your rose        
I worry ghosts        
drawn like a bee        
past bludgeon of murdering clock        
wing torn weary    
and beating a fool's tune        
the shock of bitter tongue        
blind to thorns of the heart       
     
Your reflection        
was always a dream        
from a place I dared not look        
the cruelest truth        
ruling love imperfect--        
your majesty of tears        
     
But once        
away on the mountain        
gnawing earth alone with the crows        
there for a moment        
I felt certain        
though we never got to dance        
I almost glimpsed        
a perfect smile
from your soul
Written by Abracadabra
Published | Edited 6th May 2022
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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