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Blackthorn
By
Daisy

Blackthorn

This poem only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.

Face in the shadows
Where eyes burn black candles
And wax in the water
Has armoured the lips,
A soul freezes hell
With the loneliness cruel,
And the silence is lost
Where the knife of noise slips.

The buzz and the hum
Of the jostling friends
Who are not friends in truth,
Nor are saviours of peace,
Are a salve to the guilty
Who hide all their wrongs
'Neath the cloak of more torments
Where taunts never cease.

Warps in the mirror,
A phantasm shrouded
Where rain wipes the edges
And blurs them in smoke,
There is water grey darkling
And fingers break, creaking,
The backbone now twisted,
A wizened old oak.

Blossom leaves blackthorn
And nightingale's lost
For the song has dry crumbled and
Spikes rule the breath
Where the oceans of tears
Spray the corpse of grey heart,
And though spring may be coming,
I lie down in death.

This poem only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.
This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than storiesspace.com with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © Copyright ©2017 Daisy Shylass All Rights Reserved. This material may not be reproduced, displayed, modified or distributed without prior permission. Please be respectful of my intellectual property.

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