Lingered Sorrow, As Abated Breath. Poem by Michael Gale

The love no longer lingers.
Hardly heard as from, great singers.
Singers that, be tuned, heart fine.
Only regrettably, all ailed, Mine.

The love be like a halted, thorn.
Pierced through heart, since stilled be, born.
Beneath that pallor ed face.
Lies still dormant, all sealed, disgrace.

Heart felt sorrowed fingers.
Sadly forlorn to willfully, lingers.
Lingers longer, than breath's, freshest breath.
For all to hunger, b'tween fingers, of death.

Nailed unpolished at last, in depth.
Filthied longest, under abated, breadth.