Through the Rusted Gates
"With each wave of anguish that crashes over me,
I find myself drowning in my own tears." ~ by poet
I walked through the rusted gates and entered a godforsaken plot of land. A family cemetery on top of the hill near the River Strand. A chilled mist was beginning to blanket the grave of the only man I'd ever loved... the one whose arms around me, I still crave. Grief-stricken, I rest my head on his tombstone, mournful tears spill from my eyes as I agonize with heartbreak. Life for me has lost its spark. I live each day in a twilight haze that melds into the dark.
through the rusted gates
death's breath clings upon the mist~
woe begotten hill
Ancient oaks are draped with moss. Their branches resemble arms hanging low over the graveyard as if they are ghostly specters. I think of them as my love's protectors, silently watching over him. The sky is darkening, and I hear myself groaning in sorrow. It's time to walk back through the rusted gates, but first I'll wipe away the spider's gossamer silk across his name as my heart grieves.
beneath oaken limbs
bodies rest in hallowed ground~
silence is daunting
|