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Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

In Death

Ophelia by Odilon Redon
In Death she makes a lovely bride
A face as gentle as a child
Her brazen eyes no longer wild
In spirit always by my side

Although I weep, I'm yet beguiled
Her magic she does still retain
In Death her beauty does not wane
but now my jealousy grows mild

For Love she can no longer feign
Her lying heart has stopped its beat
She now lies free of guile, deceit
The perfidy that was her bane

In Death, how chaste, how true, demure
She is an angel, perfect, pure.

submitted for The Mag, Mag 124

12 comments:

Brian Miller said...

in death she is what she could be in life....

nene said...

Lovely and for me a surprised welcome of how this is like something I would create of a once lover but you captured it in true non gendered fashion. Love your diverse heart and mind, mi amiga

Daydreamertoo said...

I agree with you on one of your tags...some relationships are truly hell. LOL
Even though doomed, I loved the romance in this. She was still a beauty even in death. Lovely :)

Donna B. said...

This is really beautiful. Well done!

Tess Kincaid said...

Dark and elegant...I like this, Mouse!

Helen said...

I enjoyed this, Mouse. The gentle rhyme, last two lines ~ so true ~ when it's all over and done.

Kutamun said...

Beautiful image of death, Lolamouse, very well done . The corpse bride, so intimately connected with life.

darev2005 said...

She just thought she was the perfect woman before that. Now she is.

Whoa. That came out bad, I think.

hyperCRYPTICal said...

She does resemble an angel...

Lovely write.

Anna :o]

Cad said...

Great take on this Mag. :)

my heart's love songs said...

really love the poem! suits the painting perfectly!

i also like your tags! {smile}

Margaret said...

A "twisted" love, for sure. LOVE IT!