Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
Sceptics Tongue
Fill the empty void with misery
And strangle frantic hopes.
An incarnation of bitter joy
Our last meeting so drear and cold.
The conflagration of your letters of love
Lie cold in the hearth now but ashes,
An immolation of my hopes,
Become rock dashed dreams
Upon the alter of sacrifice.
Can I survive or bear
A winter dark, long and drear.
Are stretched polar nights now my lot?
No my sceptics tongue longs to deny
Or fails acceptance of your loss.
Copyright P H Brookes 2012
poem
by
Paul Brookes
solid border
dashed border
dotted border
double border
groove border
ridge border
inset border
outset border
no border
blue
green
red
purple
cyan
gold
silver
black