What does the fallen Rose
that lays shrivelled on it's stem
convey to me?
Since my Brushe has never daubed
the palette's Life.
What Pain and cruel Thorn
should inflict upon my Flesh?
Since my Flesh has never tamed
my savage Strife.
What goddess walks this earth
who could bring my Pain to Tears?
Since my cloistered, empty Bridges
won't be spurned.
What Passions from the Ether
could blaze upon my Soul?
Since my fleshless Heart of Bone
will not be turned.
What brings my mind to think I am immortal?
What moves my empty, sullen eyes to cry?
What keeps the glowing embers of my inconstant heartbeat burning?What gives me ancient wings with which to fly?
.........................................................(May- June; Oxford- London; 1983)
