Gold's Wedge Of Treachery Poem by James Walter Orr

We cross the rushing stream, now gorge confined.
Once more I take the lead, with her in back.
The narrow shelves where now we walk remind
How quickly flows the water through this crack.
I turn to ask her not to lag behind,
When something slams me forward, some attack.

'Tough luck', she tells me, 'Charlie, but my goal
Is one you could not see, nor want to know.
I tried, to you, its virtues to extol;
Impress upon you all the things that flow,
From having so much wealth, to change our role;
To know the power great wealth can bestow.'

I recognize your words, your rationale,
And realize that you will hold the gain
That I have won for you in this locale
At price that far exceeds the cost in pain
And what you thought you did to my morale.
My life flows outward in the falling rain.

And I, though struck down in the bloom of youth,
Now see you at your beauty's highest point.
This that I say, I say to you in truth,
As death, with ashen hue, my cheeks anoint;
With that, already known by us, forsooth,
And fate’s fulfillment failed to disappoint.

Oh! Empress of the land where beauty grows!
Oh! Parasite who drains the day of light!
Enchantress where the fount of folly flows!
Oh! Creature of the darkest kind of night!
What venom you have packed within the rose
Of those lips that have served to spread your blight!

Your lips curve as you listen to me speak,
And the fruition of your hateful plot,
Has turned that lovely nose into the beak
Of some dread bird of prey, but it has brought,
More tangles in the skein of yarn you seek
To knit into the treasures you have sought.

I feel the frothy bubbles of my blood
Dilute the chill of rain upon my face.
I hear the muted roar of coming flood.
I feel the chilling arms of death's embrace,
And note that as you stand there in the mud,
Emotions on your visage leave no trace.

Your foot slips as you turn about to leave.
Upon a stone, I see the crimson bloom.
Soft bubbles from those lips that did deceive,
Accent the red ones that now mark my doom.
The floods that sweep upon us, now receive,
We two, as we return into the womb.

Oh! Canyon where my very life slammed shut;
Oh! Canyon with your treasure trove of pain,
We know, one day I will be no more but
A ghost that walks your paths of bloody stain,
I would give all the gold that you could put
Into your depths, to have her back again.