By your own hand

Love’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

Reviews

[Cathy Wattam]

This is really beautiful Mark. Some stunning phrases and great imagery. Too many good lines to quote but one. And such a great finale. Bravo!