Deep in the thralls, of love entombed
There rests an angel; chained in gloom.
Her raven locks are satin and curled,
Flickering flames dance and whirl;
Arabic eyes, melting sapphire pearls—
(Though crimson trails expose!)
She walks in the valley, beneath October Moon,
Pallid, mystic; soul’s slave African drums.
I dream of her, through thick clawing fog,
Smell her sweet, angelic fragrance;
Imbue and warm,
February’s dull thumping heart.
I trail her path, through jaded fields;
Wings tattered; the siren’s howl echoes aloud.
For dreams of stars, and
Fantasy.
Are only for the hollow feeling,
Of love.
Of thunderstorms in September,
Deep in the thralls—
Drowning, in love entombed.
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Submission Name: Love Entombed
