Where The Broken Heart Forgets
Spokane Centennial Trail In times of feigned affection Autumn's golden ribbon flows Beside ruby scarlet stars Of November's Mapled thrones And strands of amber stands Where verdant watered sands Become Afternoon lagoons To walk with the Sunrise To Novembering final sun's Coral salmon shining swoon Born to die against his will In land of feigned affection Where contrived facsimiles Of unholy imitations Bought and sold for a price And everyman has his price In land of feigned affection By the river's florid glow By its gurgling whispers told Of a better life when dead When ashes of Hell have fled And land of feigned affection Is once and forever dead In the innocence of non-existence In the rock of ages cleft Where the broken heart forgetsIt is my conviction, as it was Poe's, that a poem is a poem only in so far as it elevates the soul, and that is basically the most paramount explanation of poetry, not structure, and meters, etc. but then again, perhaps I am wrong. If I am, I'm sure some kind person will tell me so! Thanks for reading! Written December 26th, 2001 © on Dec 26 2001 06:38 AM PST 10 • 0 • 12
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"Spokane Centennial Trail..."