Immortal Soliloquy

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They say that the worst kind of grieving

is when the lost antagonist is still alive,

whether sudden as a spring swallow’s dive

or a slow wintered bewilderment in the leaving.

Buried, burnt or butchered cruelly out of heart

that did endure with vexation and veneration,  

fear of being alone or guilt of being causation

of their final yield to the wind that blows love apart.

 

But do we still wish to live in a solitary moratorium,

coveting our fervorous hearts in a slate stone mirth?

 

 

© Katypoetess 2016

deathkatypoetesslovelove poetrymourning

◄ Clouds of Loss

La Petite Mort of Creativity ►

Comments

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Nigel Astell

Fri 6th May 2016 15:40

The last two lines
But do we still wish to live in a solitary moratorium
coveting our feverous hearts in a slate stone mirth?

we and our shows there was no final yield and your love stays very much alive not dead and blown away as your poetry tries to show but dramatically fails to convince.

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Patricia and Stefan Wilde

Tue 3rd May 2016 11:03

so lovely to read real poetry Katy,for which we thank you.

P&S xx

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