Syllables by music soaked
Heart in vice of sorrow broke
By empty years that cloak…
The future from misty eyes that look
Backward, forever backwards
Fog of desires, more felt than seen
Drippings of some half recollected dream
That whispers louder than any scream:
Follow me, you must
And don’t look back…
Then in a silken web the meanings are caught;
And a tremor shakes the words about
Swaying as fateful fangs open out pouring
Poison into the newly spun cocoon
Sordid colors bleed into you
Intense, they color all the view
Yet you never ask anyone to help you
As your soul slowly bleeds to gray
A girl hides within the woman
A child looks out her eyes
Sees the world through her fear
It makes the woman cry
She moans to the mocking years
That echo back her tears,
And then in the night
A memory of love lights
And she is no longer alone
Could I touch your soul
Would the evil off it roll
Away along with the sly cruel word that control you?
Or would this be just one more love lost in the wasteland?
Is it war, is it love
Sent from Heaven above?
Or has sprung from Hell
A scarlet dove?
To heal the heart, or drown in the blood?
Must the woman die that the girl find love?
Did the lost love kill her heart?
I’m looking to live right up to the end
What is it to be?
Love, lover, or friend?
Or does the scarlet dove demand her own special blend?
Edgar Clinton copyright
June 19, 2012
Born in Houston, Texas and moved to Raymondvile, Texas in 1969. Family bought a radio station and helped with the family business until it was sold in 1997. Since then started an agency and mostly writes about experiences in Deep South Texas. Writers of the Rio Grande founder, editor and contributing author.