Each purpose in the first
wept tears for existence that did not come.
The rolling empty stomach
of each untenanted syllable undone.
Between the lonely water’s edge
and prolonged forgotten shores,
his heart knew only tournaments of thorns,
degradation without cause.
The lilies laughed below cold showers
of absent emotions trouble.
A requiem of evanescent tragedies,
imprison in hearts rubble.
There was no worship for Queens and Kings,
Osiris dissolved in fevered perdition,
Isis, fugacious on wings of broken dreams,
ignites in her own conflagration.
And what else could either rapturously know,
When they walked alone in Abaddon?
Hand-in-hand in walls of blackened snow,
the perpetual anguished swan
song of possibilities, broken against the shores,
From the thunder and the storm,
and the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.*
* Edger Allan Poe – Alone
Poem © Phen Weston 2015