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Diamonds On The Iron Bridge
A Poem About Acceptance.
She sought a bright airy path
And to see spring every day,
But he was born in eventide
And knew only twilight's gloom.
His songs were a messy art
Dark and grim
And bending light
Made from a sad discord tone;
And she would sever them-
Word by
Word by
Lonely word;
The way that a critic would.
Like blood from a saber gash
His songs bled to languish there,
But seeds in the soil die,
And dream with a blossom's hope-
So his songs might rally as
If tears made of diamond light
That would with white glitter trace
Frames of the black iron bridge
Where at first the lovers met.
Then she'll judge the cadence sweet
And call his song lovely now;
But he could no longer care,
For he could no longer hear
These new words his silence spoke.
When she found his music gone
To her he was only him.
(c) A.E. Dozat 3/25/15
