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From the Other Side of Sorrow.

Her name was 'holy' conscience said
and sorrow heaped upon a bed
in vain the search to find by chance
lift her, hold her for their last dance
held hopelessly in crimson time.

A heavenly view: man and wife,
had thought to throw away a life
was only such a little sin
guilt, forever unforgiven
tyranny bleached white finds those condemned.

The other side of sorrow sought
blindly fumbling to find a door
knock and call a familiar name
to light a very steady flame
so famished souls may feed and thrive.

Can you see she's all to me?
Heartbeat and love from the one above
faith has been a steadfast guide
and I along with sorrow sit
among those who have known of it.

Inspired by 'Where there is sorrow there is holy ground'
De Profundis
Oscar Wilde.

France
July 2005

poem by Gillian.E. Shaw
Added by Poetry Lover
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