literature

Assuage

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Literature Text

The dirge
drumming beneath my ribs,
a tepid drizzle
flooding the hollow cask,
each drop
muffles speech,
seeps into languid lungs
too tired to sleep and
too broken to breathe.

I stand fallen
for lack of gravity's caress
as she lies dreaming,
if indeed,
her solemn slumber
can conceive the flame
long after
the candle has whispered
goodnight.

The eager morning
blooms
in vibrant shades of gold and green
as I am withering
in billowy swathes of black
and blue,
a phantom formed of memory
no more a thought
than a drifting shadow
beneath
a blossoming sun.

She,
a once florid garden
now encased within fourteen letters
etched into rose stone,
a name
whose weight I carry alone
into the unknown
on such a wretched
and unwanted journey
into a still born future.

The broken promise of tomorrow
I concede
my bones into the dust
swept upon the breeze
unto her
shimmering shade
amidst a field of stars
I can never see
but somehow
will forever feel.
So, this is a rough draft of a poem I am working on for my creative writing class.  Any thoughts are appreciated.  Let me know what you think of the tone, what you think it's about, how it flows, etc.  I have to edit it and I'll definitely make some changes, but I have to let it go for tonight and let it sink into me for the evening.
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