....

held in place by hands of copper,
faintly the whispers
tell of their darkened days,

left upon a ledge, stripped of a glory once remembered
           alone they sit,
hearts hanging from a cleft,

Many shallow nights
Ever seem to pass before me,
Abandoned begging these iron fingers to release me;

Sleek is the moss which surrounds this prison; my only home,
             yearnings of pain,
Rippling through this brick wall,

As emerald stones cover this chest,
Eternity clothes my nakedness
Like embers from stars which sit upon the heavens
This soul will shine brighter still,

Embraced
With beauty arrayed in splendor,

Like the center core;
          Slowly pulling to itself
A wondering mystery,

Gentle whispers tell of their darkened days,
          Still they remain
Held By hands of copper...

....