Looking at desolation
(that you left here behind
with me in ruins)
and sun that shines
only to be stopped by clouds
(for darkness has deeper
meaning than collapse)
I touched the only pillar
which remained of
the temple (where
each night lied seven
stone roses with blood
in their petals) but
spirit of the place was gone
(with the summer which may
never spread its arms across
the land again) and I was left with
a hammer and pickaxe to
rebuild the temple (with a face
of new goddess) you destroyed
when you gave yourself to him
(but the times is not right now
for my hard hands are feeling
numb) looking at this desolation
I endorse my isolation (but the
time will come and it will be
a new poem for the eyes of love