Orbs of Sorrow…

Tears, fruits of grief

with each beat of my

heart they grow; out of

loving eyes they flow.

They do not baptize me;

they do not set my lonely

soul free.  They do not melt

my world of pain; the salty

spheres only purpose is change.

They cannot, be dried by the

winds calm breath; they flow

from a powerful river called

death.

 

©2013.annjohnsonmurphree

 

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