Curses Of My Life Poem by Natasha Foster
Curses Of My Life
I stand alone through each long day,
In the Secret Valley of Silence;
Free to all souls, the hidden beauty calls.
From its blue vase, the rose of evening drops,
You're blind like us. Your hurt no man designed;
As one, at midnight, wakened by the call.
Go from me, I am one of those who fall;
I should like to imagine
Mountains, and the lonely death at last.
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4/23/2024 8:25:08 AM # 1.0.0.1119
