Heavens Torment
M
Mark Heathcote
0
Altın Yaprak
Morn can open a Violet
like a book of hearts
chapters ultraviolet
coarse and converse
in tales of beaux arts
sees my lady immerse
her delicate soul thereof
in a woodland flower bent
over her dust jackets of love
sees the stars disperse
their dewy cobwebbed scent
sees her as my curse
heaven's torment.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş