Doruk Kaynak

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Maiden


My heart is stolen by a maiden in a silken woven dress
She ripped my core out with a heavenly caress
I feel the agony regress as I deplore my old lore
I find it hard to wake from the apathy of yore

I close my eyes to light to live the night
To see thy ghastly figure dance; dance and weave the night
To hold hands with the ghostly silhouettes of this dark realm
As I whelm the past I shan’t contrite

I close my eyes to be lead; lead by ‘tis ghastly maiden
Seemingly a descendant of a distant Aiden, a nephen
A wise maven able to find the gold in a forsaken craven
To find the gold in this godless, pagan raven

Submitted: Monday, January 06, 2014
Edited: Tuesday, May 06, 2014

Topic of this poem: Night

Form:


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