Dawn of Sorrow (Ars Poetica II)
I have unsewed
Mine deepest scars
And blood gushed out
And cried out words.
Words aligned,
In pale-white rhymes,
And descanted
'pon my crimes.
Brought-they cymbal,
Brought-they chime.
Brought-they brimstone.
Brought-they lime.
Bound-I sorrow to a tome
And tamed it,
And it became a flower,
Of misery in bloom.