The Blessed, Unmatched

Solemnly, she slipped from her fingertips,
The mild copper ring, onto the neatly rolled silk,
Upon the grave wooden table.

Turning, tearfully,
She swept across the cryptic grey marble,
As shafts of harsh prisms fell from cruelly marked glass.

Illuminous?

A dull motion of insignificance,
Sparks an inhospitable romance,
Between light and sound.

An hesitation in the flicker of a moment,
Only for hell to claim it's final victim.

Struck,
Her warning... If faithfully ominous.
Lit,
Stripped... In sanctimonious silence.
Alight,
Behind those black phosphorous lashes.
Aflame,
An anonymous secret in mourning.


(Dedicated)