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Grief
The pale white of the moon
Alights over the soft, grey stone.
The sky is bleeding all hues of
Red, yellow and a blazing orange.
My nightly mourning through,
I lay a crimson rose at the cross
Of a woman taken before her time.
Dark shadows follow my heavy heart
As I slowly make my departure
Along stark avenues of floral templars.
'Be vigilant, brave guards' I whisper,
Pulling my hands across their cracked barks.
'Allow none to disturb the sacred place
Where my stilled heart lies.'
It is no longer the scarlet blood
That flows through my inmost being,
Such vibrancy has been lost.
I took a knife and now a mere hole
Disperses gravity throughout me,
The forces keeping me tied to this world.
My voice breaks the silence as I start to sing,
'To the altar of cursed love, my life, I bring.'
poem
by
Liam O'Brien
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