Martyr

by hiraeth   Jun 13, 2016


In lilacs and baby's breath,
she learned of comfort.

I watched her from afar -
like she was;

Luna, the Mourning Sun,
the onyx-black sky littered with stars born dying.

She smelled of perennials (fleshly blossomed),
April showers on spring mornings were but,
dull without her -

she was the chrysanth' that brightened
the world when the storm-clouds sang,

but she too, danced to the wailing cries
of thunder and relentless rain on rooftops,

she was melody.

-----

old poem.

8


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Latest Comments

  • 1 year ago

    by Darren

    Judges comment

    An unusual first line, baby's breath.
    My babies had breath of vomit, milk, baby biscuits or vomit again, hell sometimes all of them.
    This is the work of an intelligent mind. Stars are dying, true yet they are often perceived as life or guiding lights. Such imaginative imagery throughout this piece made it stand out from the small crowd for me.
    I like the shortened nickname for chrysanthemums, helps the flow and is less of a mouthful.
    I love the power of the second last line.
    I can hear it as I read it which usually ticks the boxes for me. 4 points

  • 1 year ago

    by Poetess

    "the onyx-black sky littered with stars born dying."

    ^ probably one of my most favorite things I have ever read.

  • 1 year ago

    by Em

    Mark,
    Beautiful imagery and words.

    All the best, Em