ASH GARDEN

Your love is a dying ember
Sparking from a fire,
Fading as it arches,
Its path consumed Desire.

My heart, a high cloud rider
Falling from the sky,
Crashing through a sunset,
Learning how to
Die.

Regret your shrouds unwelcome

In my hiding place,

Where dreams are formed and nourished

By tears upon my face.

True love, you’re but ash memory

Turned cold upon the soil,
No nourishment for our garden,
No flowers for my toil.