Gethsemane

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
"The flame that burns the brightest burns the shortest", could very well have been said about romances. Lost in the intensity, clouding the mind, to not realize the end is comming soon. And when it comes, it is twice as much a pain to bear.

Submitted: September 17, 2016

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Submitted: September 17, 2016

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Moons over moons pass in flight

A hearts season may change

Spilled tears turn cold white

Among blue rose, black lilies fall

 

Turn your bright skies raven black

Paling scarlet clouds storm gray

Under withering olive trees

Soaking in the amber rain

 

Gentle arms of passionate salvation

Become a coarse wood burden

Soft words so sweetly pleasent

Judgment's biting iron binding

 

The flourished garden is no longer

A bone mount took it's place

Where your bleeding heart

Won't find no rest


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