by Stephen Allen
Winged love lost its wings, striding
In another disguise which frowns
At he which clod in a mourning glow,
A woe as never shined so bright insight.
Killed by his own fear
In a dream that shed distilled tears.
In a crystal drop
Joy flat lined on his cheeks,
But he hugged that smile in pretense,
Sweltering with numbness in a darkling transfix.
Thou art exile from realism because
Of the venomous sting which puncture his
Heart.
One day again thee shall renew his heart
But today a heart as lost his breath.
A Gemini’s hurt is a wretched devil,
Isolated in despairs heart.
Today thee is melancholy standing on a pulpit
Staring at the back of thou arts bride,
Eluding away with the wind.
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ABOUT THE POET ~
my mind is sporadic and unpredictable.
