Poetic Justice


Midnight, when the hour is darkest;

And secret things lay hidden just outside the reach of moonlight-

I find myself inexplicably wandering through the rose gardens,

Half expecting to see your ghost…

Barefoot in the wet grass, I choose the reddest bloom;

And deign to contemplate our state under the waxing moon.

Cautious not to touch the thorns, I start the telltale game-

Did we Love, or did we not? And are we still the same…

For when Karma finds two silver hearts

Unbowed, unbent, unbroken;

No doubt the Vixen dares to steal

Each truth, each word, unspoken.

-Once Known As “Beautiful”.










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