Immortal Beloved

"I like a look of agony, because I know it's true; men do not sham
convulsion, nor simulate a throe. The eyes glaze once, and that is
death. Impossible to feign the beads upon the forehead by homely
anguish strung. "

Emily Dickenson

"Immortal beloved"

This rose is such a delicate thing,
so full of perfumed pain.
A rose once blue, faded to grey
like the sky on a cold winters day.

In the heavens we dance
the sun and the moon
holding on to hopes and dreams
that we'll meet again soon.

We pass up above
with no earthly cares
singing songs of dreams
and listening to mortal prayers.

There are times when we touch
and the world turns a purple hue,
an angelic soul of light
colored by shades of you.

Darkness and death,
old pain and flowing tears
immortal love and light,
a warrior with no fears.

This rose is such a delicate thing,
so full of perfumed pain.
A rose once grey, now the color of blue
come to life again because of my love for you.

And now death and darkness
gazes upon us in shame
And as we dance we leave them to wonder
if they have missed in their aim.


Angel Snowden