The Keeper Poem by Agatha Eliza

Calliope, gentle muse of my art:
sanctified voice of the earth
the call of incandescent moon,
adornments of pain after rain
the brittle bridge of shadows
above the blankets of meadows!
reflections of wings in lakes
burning eyes upon angelic face,
and golden hair, smooth as lace
the obsession of time and space!
the night..the day, the hours..
solitude and love..once all ours!
drowning in cradle of desires
wishing to go higher, and higher..

I can still feel the eerie power
the grief chant of ancient tower
and spells of an asphodel flower!

and daggers whirling in the wind
sweetest sin carried from afar
deep down my corps, my veins
my empty thoughts..
all hollowed and blood-drained!
Oh! Calliope..you are
iridescent core of morningstar;
the mourning robe of night
and the void settled in my heart..

melody of branches breaking soon
steady rocks rolled down at noon
loveless song of birds and runes!

and gentle whisper of feeling,
the ardent embrace of a quill
surreal exile of human senses
life and death's scented essence!
Oh! Calliope..kingdom for my mind
the very fontain of inspiration!
petulant sound crushing the air
dancing strings of rusty violin
and lyre, all together..
make the spirit burn to dust
but not a worthles endeavor
endure sorrow, behold happiness
if it's love you want to offer me,
I want your heart on a platter!
still, darling one, can't you see?

there is always a 'something':
something peculiar to hide,
something precious to find,
and something good to keep,
because in the end...
I am that keeper!