She dreamed of pomegranates among lilies,
red orbs glowing among the white,
water beneath, black as soot and death,
while life drifted just above the surface.
She thought of Catherine of Aragon,
forlorn loves, starved dreams,
desolate, but beautiful, on the surface of death.
The most lovely thing about life,
is that it ends.
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 10:59 AM UTC
She dreamed of pomegranates among lilies,
red orbs glowing among the white,
water beneath, black as soot and death,
while life drifted just above the surface.
She thought of Catherine of Aragon,
forlorn loves, starved dreams,
desolate, but beautiful, on the surface of death.
The most lovely thing about life,
is that it ends.
Request permission to use this poem