The Day My Beloved Hath Died Poem by Paige Nielsen
The Day My Beloved Hath Died
Circular orbs feverish with glint,
blesséd blue and a pinprick of black,
Small details across from me
over the coffin in which she lies.
Her mother never liked me much.
Now, she's just as stiff and cold.
One petal, from one rose,
one petal.
Red as purity, white as lust,
black as the everblooming night.
Aw, thats sad. I really like this one though. By far my favorite.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 11:29:27 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I like it. It seems, for some reason, that I like your sadder and darker poems best.