Gravestone

Spartan lies my heart
Under October’s limited glaze of glory unsung
And my breath catches and holds in the air
To mock me in cruel torment of emotion,
I still breathe
While timid, the morning chalks the sky in vanilla and soft cream
But I see not these shades,
I grasp upon the shapeless clouds that idle in shadows,
Dark swells like my misery,
Like the formless weary pulse that now echoes inside
Grieving love’s name that I cannot speak,
Mute words abandoned to autumn’s dour grin,
Lost on rough lips chapped against the first cold
And tears that cast me low to the hollows of that bitter break,
That verge that leaves me staid while life’s merriment dances.
Oh, how I pray for winter,
My stark ally,
Whose mystery keeps upon dark nights of solitude,
Friendless and indifferent,
Frozen, so none shall break the wrought ice,
Fashioned by sorrow and despair
Until I am but love’s gravestone
Watching the years’ jaded footsteps pass me by.

Ragtag Daily Prompt: Spartan

#FOWC ~ Limit

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