Shipwrecked Poem by Christan Bowen

broken is the vase
the vase, which would hold
a flower so bold
and this bold and new vase so blue
held red roses
given to a lover
she was one and he was the other
but intertwined wont change her mind
for with the devil
a contract signed
for if a man come
with golden cup to lip
I must yield
so he can sip

but this she whispered
only while alone
and he loved her
flesh, soul and bone
he was a fool
this much is true
and he would sing
like lovers do
as he walked a trail
which led to her house
he thought of fragrance
and the hym of her blouse

but when he approached
he saw with his own eyes
another mans horse
was already tied

and so he turned
with lesson learned
the suns not the only
thing that burns
that love has a blade
and for lovers its made
and love is a game
and its how its played