Train's of Thought....
The Mantel Born
*---------------------------*
By Matthew Triche
June's cusp spires upon me
And from it's heights pour bright skies.
Though, an emptiness retains me
Through the burning in her eyes.
And against my back doth terror blow,
It's demur winds cause strife.
For within my heart; convections flow
Which slowly drain love's life.
Embedded deep; my blood runs cold-
The question it presents.
The mold is set, fear's reason cast
And so my soul laments.
Upon my neck: The Mantel Born
...Across it's face of black it bears...
"Does she still really care?"
"Is it still really there?"