By your own handA Poem by Mark DLove’s wildest son Stepping in time with torment A love of the hunt Leads to love of the death So you trod on the flower That they saw through the window So many times as children Without a song to bring out the sun In crashing down with the rain You took the water in your mouth And tasted the earth Spluttered the salt and gravel It was more than just a sign That your gates were closing I saw the key turning Locked by your own hand Blind love left your kiss And true friend left your hand Their forgiving side is dead From thinking of your falling The soft echo that you heard all over “Life is no more permanent Than the love that left you” The parting guest in the final hour Do you play that harp alone now Willing the sleeping night to answer? Can you still wrestle a note from it Before hushing the sounds of morning? And would you ever dare to tell A later love about these times? Or dare to find the true relation Between time and peace? Knowing that time may slow the tears But tears have means to slow the
time © 2012 Mark DReviews
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Compartment 114
Compartment 114
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61 Reviews Shelved in 2 Libraries
Added on April 12, 2012Last Updated on September 6, 2012 Author
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