☆ [ Artist ] Clare Wilson
Rumour of ghosts
From my body you pulled the soul;
you caused me many acute pains.
Deadly! But you have still my soul.
Thou art the cure causing my ruin,
burns my flesh and darkens the veins.
As for me, the strength to pour tears
I melted like snow on your lips.
Smiling to the salt of my tears,
you transformed them to ice sugar.
When will you drink of my last drips?
If my reason shall be released
from the body’s links – my prison –
Heart will abide a prisoner…
and my soul shall not be released.
2016 © ManachePoetry