Hallow Winds over Shallow Grave

'pon hallow wind,

And shallow grave,

Those bodies lie,

Whence in a dream,

Unlike the others,

In a hole of misery,

No pot of flowers.

Tis bout thee.

No joy,

Just sorrow,

For all years to come,

Until the day arrives and goes,

Disappeared to the wind,

Like the white crow,

Did thy fellow fly,

Gliding along the waters of sky,

With fright of falling.

The tears they fall from clouds above,

And leave sad heart to soak,

It was naught but broke.

It lay there on the butchers table,

Knife held by many,

Yet none could disturb,

Thy torn heart which beat before them.

All but you and you alone,

You held the saber high and let it fall,

And then you dice it,

You mince it,

And rinse it.

Leaving thy ripped soul to be stitched by another.

I leave now to a world between worlds,

where the trees are tall and rivers wide,

Log cabin be where I reside,

and slowly let frozen soul,

Thaw before thee.

I sleep in silence,

And picture this,

Nothing but an unsought kiss.

Now in clouds my tears do fall,

In empty pots,

Like hug ol' blots,

On dove-feathered crows,

Into a hallow wind that now blows,

In my shallow grave,

Where my heart shall soon be laid,

Where all my debts are paid,

And thy secrets stayed.


Original Poem by SethWilson Isaac Gray