Ross Mackay

Intolerance Part Iii: The St Bartholomew's Day Massacre - Poem by Ross Mackay

1572 A.D. Paris.

Brown Eyes, make me your goodnight kiss.
This last time, with the flames of life alight,
kiss me now and say goodnight,
a hand which marked so cruel,
the water soup and the morning gruel,
say goodnight and you shall see,
the gates of heaven crossed with keys.

The stars wrapped up in velvet arms,
the silver globe will be wet with tears,
your pale hand will sweep the brooks and rivers,
where the fairies cross and the creatures mix,
the nymph which lives amongst the moss.
All shall weep and bow as you pass
when the Queen of Angels breaths her last.

The tap on your door tells me our time is up.
I'll weep forever after this day
when evil and intolerance roamed.
St Bartholomew's Day in massacre-
Brown Eyes, your world is nearly over.
For you I'd trade away my soul,
for you to live a second longer.

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Poem Submitted: Monday, May 14, 2012

Poem Edited: Tuesday, August 14, 2012

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