What death of soul
Beneath the softly falling snow
While skies of ashen greyness wept
So far above her as she slept
In winter's numbing chill embrace
What eyes did stare from sweetly youthful face
All banked in blanket snowy shroud
While muted cries dispersed within the crystal clouds
What death of soul and loss of being
Caught her here with eyes unseeing
Victim fallen prey to rehearsed sanctity
Collapsed on his foul sword of cursed iniquity
Lying then as only angels dreamed
And ebbing soul gave way to parting sorrow's stream
December skies in grief and lamentation
Reaching down with gentle kiss of frost's precipitation
To coat this death of soul with pristine dress of white
Though sin so deadly seeping bore its way into the night
Swirling pinwheels redly gleaming
Though for all the world she was seeming
An angel lying pale in moon-bathed bed of snow
Yet just a child now lost within a death of soul.
Copyright 2003 cre
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Printed from www.DarkPoetry.com/dp/385/12110 on Friday September 05th, 2008 12:22 PM
Certain elements © 1996-2008 Matthew Steven (matts.org)
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