Of hurts translucent
Washed threadbare soft
Of sorrows scrubbed sheer
I swaddlings make
Pleading with my stubborn gaze
That will not tear
From your strange, stilled form.
One last dirge, I croon
'fore I cocoon
you love, in this weave--
May it keep you warm.
Cradle close in grieving arm
Safe from all bruise
Dash no more
'gainst stone rampart
Sleep now, my tattered heart.
The leave is took.
Passengered in gentle palm
little bird, now ascend
--to the back of the topmost shelf.
There, in steel chest
You will rest
Expunged from my breast.
There are heartless
Who are cruel
And there are the bereaved
Who walk, heartless among us.