Lost daughter of a frozen generation,
Born of suffering & cruel degradation:
All the wondrous colours & the subtle shades,
That bought you the luxuries of wealth & fame,
Are now just shadows of your wounds & your pain;
Merely pale spectres without sanctified names.
O free yourself from the rusted chains of Time
And focus on the most sublime, sunlit sign.
Throw yourself into the devouring Light,
Lost daughter of the bruised, wanton, starless night.
Fill your empty veins with Summer's vintage wine;
Dissolve your keen mind into the mists of Time.
As the mental clouds of doubt disappear,
The Eternal Forms gradually appear.
Hosts of Angels gather 'round your saintly eyes,
Inside their pale blue depths the harsh winter dies.
Hold onto the Vision; the encircling flame.
Look to the sacred Kingdom that calls your name.
Thanks Lynn..much appreciated! I wrote it back in 1991(when I was still a student) upon the death of my grandmother. However, I've rewritten it several times over the years. I think it now has many different layers of meaning, although the original sentiment remains.
A write of remembrance expressed well. With a huge story behind these words. Thank You
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A poem which touches the heart. Thank you!