Keep thy aromatic form within the soil,
Anointed in oils,
To which the priests did select.
You were given praise by those of God,
For I am meager, in contrast.
My love is nothing, it seems
To His own.
Reincarnate yourself, in His womb,
In His paradise.
Leave the rest behind
In the dismal leaves, when times rewinds
To see each memory upon those eyes.
I soldier myself across the wastes
Without you, in my arms.
I face the grief, and the pain
With only a beating shell.
Nothing whole remains
Upon the mountain of dirt, that is my bosom.
It is hollow,
It is shallow,
Like the grave where I left you.
Like this:
Like Loading...