emc poetry

Alone in the stone walls I crafted

In cold winter silent nights

Through sips of wine, dejected.

If I’m a damsel then please let me be merry.

I’ll be busy reading my library

And praying this is all temporary.

A shrew is sure to go mad

When the candle’s light is cold.

Loneliness makes my hands turn blue

Not idle,

Just gentle like dew

Drops that the grass cradles.

Purposeful strokes on any canvas,

Methodically trying to make sense of it all.

I can promise

There’s too much in this mind

For anyone to polish.

I can be refined

But it’s only a matter of time

Until my ghostly spirit

Looms over my delicate happiness

And vanquishes her like a terrifying dragon.

-emc