A curtain is drawn
I shield my eyes
To not see
But I feel
Despite the years
And all the tears.
A fountain springs
Brings to life
Memories that bless.
Behind the veil
She calls to me
Pulls my world into hers.
A butterfly dies
Beauty begs for life
A keyhole closes
A lock turns.
And I try to understand
But I’m weak.
Her face fades
And a church rises
Where once we lay.
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Author:
Keith (
Offline) - Published: January 16th, 2022 04:25
- Comment from author about the poem: This poem is a metaphor for the end of 800 years of the Moors in Al - Andalus. It is a love poem too I guess to a lost period in time.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 15
Offline)
Comments1
Beautiful poem.
Gracias, Makoto.
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