Poem no 4 in the Verse Cycle TO YOU
These Words Were Meant For You.
Don´t let the frozen hand of rage
Lay cold upon your skin,
But warm the blood, thy touch,
That run through the ocean.
Thy fingertips like rosy petals
Smoothly bleeding red
Of sore that stay too long
In the rank wildness.
I close my eyes, to see the most
And in my dreams,
I see what I have lost
In every soul there is a shade
A shadow lent from beauty´s chest.
The Every shadow I paint as new
Until another as your heart
In my mind, Does appear.
April 2018. Copyright k,c.