Friday, July 27, 2012


You scripted well your tragedy,
Working backward from the end.
Never thought that you would see
The broken letters you had penned.

Snowy embers, late to bloom
Melt to ice the burning page,
Taking every thought ill-gotten
To set the players on the stage.

All the reels of merry solace
Burned for sake and madness trade.
Laughing at the dreary revel,
Painted with insulting shade.

Sketch the shadow-lit facade,
Pretend that you don't see them.
Enchanted web that sparkles with
The tears of selfish reason.

This dragon writhes upon its perch
Of pain and mortal sorrow;
Such jealousy of bitter mirth,
Your anger for to borrow.

Fair and dark of splendid starlight,
Words sprung of a wishing well.
Close the book upon the story
With wings here broken since we fell.

©2012, MLowe. All Rights Reserved.

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