A Torn Relic

Helena, I will hide in the night
Behind the shadows of those bushes
That makes my shame seem not so dark
As our love story crumbles with the brittle and broken limestone

A punishment I guess for a forbidden sacred kiss that we shared
Underneath the pearl white gemstones that illuminated the sky, and that moment
Which prayed for our affection…Baptizing eternity within our lips

As two adolescent souls walked hand and hand together with joy
A summer’s flame elevated resting embers towards a crescent double sided moon
Intensifying the evening of your unforgettable smile
And those of your bright eyes… those beautiful bight hazel eyes

That shook my world when words belonging to devotion intertwined us ever so

Thus, a red velvet cloth tinted the passion
There within the closing tomb of my mind yet, this alter was defiled
By a butterfly effecting the clock workings geared faithfully for the present

As the sin of losing your love now reigned as my anointed crown of thorns

Therefore, May I be crucified as the scar of Apollo
Frozen in a ring of fire forever, while being mocked by a dancing deity of destruction…

Oh, Saint Vincent perhaps I could mirror your essence
To conquer these thoughts…that I am nothing more then a son of Cain
In the hopes that I do not become a relic
Desecrated as a page torn from the holy book of life

Worshiped in ignorance by the foolish evangelist and the cardinal priest
As some sort of gospel inscribed on the backs and wings of angels
For all that I am is a man that misses his dear sweet Helena…

A fiddler that is cursed to worship the memories lost between an unspoken time…

~ Paradise’s Poet ~