The Sun's Love
Once upon a midnight, a dreary sun did dawn,
warming, only slighty, salty spring's still cool days
where the fresh flowers still so powerfully cling
to the frosty undertows of winter's mighty chill.
Where, if the road closes, are they to sparkle and grow?
Upon the grass of the treacherous king's pawn
so lovely and tall to block such moonlight's taunt
and protect from the mightiest rush or bitterest pill.
Then to blood red suns did the flowers hide withdrawn,
more than emotion lost between the silken petals
so unlike the harsh stone such a fertile earth upon
was crashed like thunder's new waves ingathering.
And so like the stifled flowers of the clearing predawn,
love left (but that nightmare in my heart) such ailing.
By BlackCrimson
© 2003 BlackCrimson
(All rights reserved)
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