The Black Iron Gate

A'las no love but only hate.....behind The Black Iron Gate. One of the first poems I wrote after my mother's death.

 

 

What lies behind the Black Iron Gate

For certain souls to see

The purple flowers on the wall

The fountain’s drops that bleed.

 

The ivy vine who hopes to find

A glimpse of light ahead

Sadly learns the trails she leaves

Will soon turn brown and dead.

 

The chimes that blew beside the wind

Their music sound no more

The hummingbirds have flown away

Too scared from thunder roars.

 

The angels in the garden cry

Upon the rocks they weep

 Tears of blood fall down their face

And trickle to their feet.

 

No soul would want to really know

The way this feels inside

Alas’ no love but only hate

 

Behind The Black Iron Gate.

 

 

 

Reviews

[Brianna Brie]

The angels in the garden cry
Upon the rocks they weep
Tears of blood fall down their face
And trickle to their feet.
No soul would want to really know
The way this feels inside
Alas' no love but only hate

Wonderful rhythm and rhyme in this poem. Very poetic...enjoyed it in spite of the somber subject.