Drink deep, the waters of your soul,
Quench the pyre, put out the coals,
The Lady spirit cometh, hells flames,
Will steal your heart, life, and name.
Flow, now shimmering waters of life,
Or boil, sizzle and scald, running rife.
The Lady tempts, her bliss is sweet,
Warming to the core, strength, heat.
All life's desires, cannot be resist,
Your soul is hers, from the first kiss.
Without escape, useless to fight,
Lifetime passed on now into the night.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Hi Dave - thanks for commenting on my blog, it's always nice to see some new faces.
It's also always nice to see some rhyme on the blog circuit, since generally I think people (ie me) opt for the sometimes easier free verse. Obviously a lot of work went into this, so well done. The metre feels really effortless and well-crafted.
Thanks for the compliments! Actually, I'm usually kicking myself for not writing things that don't rhyme! Perhaps we're just envious of other people's styles? Self-criticism is supposed to be a good thing for authors though!
Post a Comment