Silent Tears From The Corner

by Rob Krabbe 1998

The rose,

soft and sweet,

it’s silk pedals crest,

the wings of my flight

from the nest,

dark and fallow.

The flight,

disguised as freedom.

the end of my dreams,

the sands fall to sand

though the light seems

far from coming.

The sand,

brooding, smothers

the tailings of life,

the moment of judgment,

and the just, fight

the slings of darkness.

The stone,

whipped, guilty, fast,

through the bone of my head,

dividing the beat of my heart

and spread the silence,

final and welcome.

My heart,

cooled down and quiet,

lay down like a virgin,

hopeful for wonder and love,

purged in, the kindle of pain,

blood and endings.

The love,

nurtured, it’s bounty

swings from the rope,

like a king’s feast,

before royalty and slave,

watching and hearing,

keeping and failing,

silent and burning,

deaths arrows sailing,

silent tears from the corner

of my deepest

darkest

grave.