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 ~