A Torn Relic

Helena, I will hide in the night 
Behind the shadows of those bushes 
That makes my shame seem not so dark 
As our love story crumbles with the brittle and  broken limestone 

A punishment I guess for a forbidden sacred kiss that we shared 
Underneath the pearl white gemstones that illuminated the sky, and that moment
Which prayed for our affection…Baptizing eternity within our lips

As two adolescent souls walked hand and hand together with joy
A summer’s flame elevated resting embers towards a crescent double sided moon 
Intensifying the evening of your unforgettable smile 
And those of your bright eyes… those beautiful bight hazel eyes 

That shook my world when words belonging to devotion intertwined us ever so 

Thus, a red velvet cloth tinted the passion 
There within the closing tomb of my mind yet, this alter was defiled 
By a butterfly effecting the clock workings geared faithfully for the present 

As the sin of losing your love now reigned as my anointed crown of thorns

Therefore, May I be crucified as the scar of Apollo
Frozen in a ring of fire forever, while being mocked by a dancing deity of destruction… 

Oh, Saint Vincent perhaps I could mirror your essence 
To conquer these thoughts…that I am nothing more then a son of Cain 
In the hopes that I do not become a relic 
Desecrated as a page torn from the holy book of life 

Worshiped in ignorance by the foolish evangelist and the cardinal priest 
As some sort of gospel inscribed on the backs and wings of angels 
For all that I am is a man that misses his dear sweet Helena...

A fiddler that is cursed to worship the memories lost between an unspoken time…

~ Paradise’s Poet ~

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