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Recently by Macbeth
Gracious Urn
Come O Feather headed might
and unwound me by wounding me!
Let this page be my heart and
Scratch it like a Times’ spear
Then let me soak my wounds alone
In tears and sobs __and misseries unknown
Ah these bitter yet sweet solitudes
Will soon be gone too
Forlorn! Forever...
Some where on a piece of paper my heart would bleed
And my ashes would rest in peace.
Oh how Precious have become those words entombed
__ An Urn of my burning self!
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Posted by quin on
Saturday February 7, 2009 03:03 pm
...unwound me by wouding me ...
dexterous beautiful expressions - wow
dexterous beautiful expressions - wow
Macbeth
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