Andromache

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A young bride waits for her husband to return to her, though she knows he never will.

"I’ve never seen so cold a face, so soft a pose, such shattered grace, such sadness clinging to a place where every heart stands still"

Submitted: January 18, 2007

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Submitted: January 18, 2007

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She walked beneath the broken sky
The air was close, no clouds came by
and no tears ever seemed to dry
upon that barren hill

I’d never seen so cold a face,
so soft a pose, such shattered grace,
such sadness clinging to a place
where every heart stands still

 

Her trailing gown was bridal white,
her skin was pale, her face was bright,
her eyes were wide and black as night
her hair was silver-gold

She was a soul in bitter pain
She’d loved what could not long remain
She wanders here, and waits in vain,
for love has left her cold

 

Leave her beneath that broken sky
where air is close, no clouds come by
where no tears ever seem to dry
upon that barren hill

You've never seen that haughty face,
that tender pose, that broken grace,
that sadness clinging to that place--
I hope you never will


© Copyright 2018 Bitter Irony. All rights reserved.

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