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A Moth among Butterflies

Your warm embrace

 

Surrounded him, depended, leaned against his

Stately figure,

As both of your harmonious hands

Smoothed each other’s sides

And cartographed those rolling lands.

You, beautifully, were

Expressively exhausted; your eyelids

Drooped downward, like a

Curtain for the Holy Place.

 

The tenderness of your face

Was given, in whole, to him

That stoic threw your burdens

Onto himself, and lifted your chin.

You trusted one another

More than the sun trusts the moon

To play their intertwining parts;

A child and her mother

Could not have known each other’s hearts

As deeply as the pair of you.

 

And as for me?

Well, so, you see,

I stood, motionless as a cat,

The world revolved around this scene

While I, unwilling satellite that

Looked upon the intimacy

Of two souls,

Broke.

 

Shattered, the wellspring of tears

Burst forth, only barely contained

All rational thoughts and fears

Torn away by the vicious night-wind

As all I had known, seen, or been

Was thrown away from the mind.

 

Gone were the idyllic images

Of friends laughing in the shade of trees

Where every soul hears and sees

The song of birds and children;

Gone were the late nights spent

Sitting on sofas in sweet silence

And soft scent.

 

For now the soul knows and despairs,

Midnight tolls, farewell! too late!

Too late to change these dreary airs

And revive the spirit from misery

The body weaves through throngs of stars

Hiding every drop of spray

That fell from Venus, or from Mars,

This hour is the final doomsday,

As one glance at those two

Drove all measures of happiness,

All foolish thought of blooms and May,

Into the death-black and echoing cave.

No light, no hope is left to save.

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a
Written by
almostattimesthefool
16
Published
Feb 24
Lines·Words
54·289
Notes

Inspired by Charles Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities and personal experiences. For Hannah.

Permission

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