This is one of my poems, a brief prose narrative, written three years ago on this date, January 14th, 2019.
White wings fraught with cold black fate
the breath of wind howls a song of late.
Her soul longs to voyage through the light
from love slain by the thief of bitter night.
Love promised truth and etched upon the heart
broken now by lies, grey walks bare dispart.
Burdened and crowned with sorrow’s despair
time and chance seared from hope and prayer.
The rose she yearned but the thorn not spared
and the same wind sang hearts withering fare.
Love’s hand loosened and let slip the reigns
while the thorn pierced harshly and love bled pain.
His welding iron the tongue of death he played
luring lies, burning anger sent love to it’s grave.
Once was light against a world dark and void
but the wind blew strong, love and trust destroyed.
by Jane Hardin