The Pieces of Me, You Adored Them

Warrior-Poet cried and warred,

He crashed his sword against scrivener’s board,

Soul-screaming, “Why?”

The signs had been clear: Persevere,

Yet, Her pained words He heard, quite crystal clear.

Message? Belied?

Far away, Kalliope wept.

Reciprocated, warmness slowly crept,

Beneath to hide.

Days, flittering moments to a Muse,

Kalliope’s heart ached from this misuse,

Fury alive.

Warrior-Poet’s Heart issued demands,

He longed to hold Her alabaster hands,

His best, he tried.

Kalliope flashed before Him,

Friends? The pieces of Me, you adored them!”

Her Wrath and Pride.

Pale, Warrior-Poet took a knee,

“That is still Truth, My dear Kalliope.”

Sword, set aside.

“Do you not wish to hold my Heart?”

Implored the Muse, “Truth, I beg, impart!”

Kneeling beside.

Sun washed Warrior-Poets grim face,

“I Swear upon the Dancers’ spin through Grace.”

He softly cried.

Clarity struck Kalliope, profound,

“You do wish my Heart? You whisper, it pounds.”

His tears, she dried.

© All rights reserved, 2016.

Talk to me.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: