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Created 2 years ago · 11 comments· 0 likes
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Her silence knot is tied up her in hair,
Just as she tied it up the day she died.
Her children are devoured by despair,
And she may only watch, despondent-eyed.
The blaze that blazed that hour, it was her fire
Although it was not she who struck the match.
It takes not much to raise a woman's ire,
And criminals are difficult to catch.
Now mutely she walks on, a ghost in ashes
Her children weeping on a ship that sank
And though there was a fortune, no one cashes
Except that foolish fellow at the bank.
The curtain falls before the knot unties
I only pray that this time, no one dies.
This creation was not made on NightCafe.
MJ
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Magical