There is a divine horror to love,
is there not?
Like wind it buffers the heart-strings.
Soul meets soul where soul has met before.
You call me an anemone, frail and fair,
but I am not the night-boding flower
flourishing in your mind
and you do not love me,
or her,
or anyone.
I sing ariel's song and shiver.
YOU ARE READING
Fields of Asphodel
PoetryA poetry collection inspired by mythology, nature, and poetry itself. The style will be a bit different to what I wrote for Clockwork Lives, but I feel personally that it is an improvement. :)
