Thursday, January 17, 2008

The Queen :Laura Mansfield 05

my draft

There she is;
whose heart did rust.
She laid it out;
did him entrust.
Who brought her water, even when
its oil she sought, to quench this flame.
It seems of naught, she thought and thought;
to try explain; erase such pain;
Who had worried much, which way was right
but, knowing now, the pain, its name;
For the rusting heart, should only ache more
given water to cure its pains;
She waits atop the mighty hills;which call out;
hear the echoing name?
It calls out from the heights of time;
it cries for help... can you hear it?
Oh this queen from distant lands-
she hopeth for him that cometh from the same!
Alas, my love, you speaketh my name;
I pledge to you my heart, though caged...
see it now - put to the test
For now - at best - when looking in
you see it rusted, and wasted; not as beautiful as
I whisper, yes
I do confess
to have loved another.
Yet he brought me water,
out of rough terrain; through hills of ice.
I now must give
this sacrifice.
But its just a heart, its not all that I have
what you search for...
is beautiful still...
For I have not exposed it; to the winds
called time or change
I have waited
my king... for you
who knoweth treasure
what I bring...
who bringeth water
but not to her heart
doth require instead
her spirit.
which dieth quite the harsher
longer death.
For in it
no trace or sign of night
not rest; nor element
enough to scathe.
The water and the air...
would perhaps be welcome there.
What killeth my heart,
it is true...
as I surrendered...
they have not gotten past
through the rusting
caged gate
they might have learned
the beauty that waits...
her spirit wandereth
ever still
amongst the rolling ireland hills
searching for the end
such fate;
still alive
deep within
barely breathing
as he is looking in
the heart is hardened
but still it beats
he looks at her...
the treasure .... keep
she sees it there...
seems far away
this journey so far
for this first day.