From: williamgwilliams@gmail.com   
      
   On Tuesday, April 20, 2021 at 11:52:32 PM UTC-4, Rachel wrote:   
   > i guess i messed up pretty bad.    
   >    
   > one-winged dove    
   >    
   > like being nailed    
   > to a dying tree    
   > trapped in my life    
   > of nothingness    
   > painful and insufferable    
   > as a maddening    
   > deafening silence    
   >    
   > sirens scream,    
   > the ambulances    
   > and motorcycles roar,    
   > neighbors endlessly stomp    
   > and drag furniture    
   > across a wooden floor    
   >    
   > the empty chambers    
   > of my mind    
   > draped with cobwebs    
   > hanging on the rotted vine    
   > the trees are barren    
   > the soil is cold    
   > could it be    
   > that i am growing old?    
   >    
   > no lover did come,    
   > no man come to save    
   > i’ll wither away    
   > unremarkably    
   > to my anonymous    
   > unmarked grave.    
   > no sons did i bear,    
   > no daughters to raise    
   > no love to pass on,    
   > the end of my name    
   >    
   > i don’t even want    
   > to rest in the earth    
   > i never found peace here,    
   > no refuge, no hearth    
   > so burn me to ashes,    
   > and throw me away    
   > while gaia keeps churning,    
   > and turning each day    
   >    
   > a life truly wasted,    
   > a sorrowful soul    
   > no one would dare join me,    
   > come make me whole    
   > did i dare cry too hard,    
   > did suffer too much fright    
   > did i bear the unbearable    
   > kingdom of the night    
   >    
   > so laugh on, young children    
   > laugh lightly like the flowers    
   > and count not the heavy    
   > weight of the hours    
   > some can never forget    
   > some will never let go    
   > the promise was broken    
   > this womb will never glow    
   >    
   > we stand up strong,    
   > and say never again    
   > but to this fight    
   > most defeating,    
   > i’ll never lend my hand.    
   > just leave me alone,    
   > and please let me be    
   > this is the judgment,    
   > the fated decree    
   >    
   > the heart has been shattered,    
   > a broken disease    
   > all romance is dead,    
   > their fires did freeze.    
   > no passion, no dreams,    
   > no hopes will i sing,    
   > they shot this bird down,    
   > this bird on the wing   
      
   "one-winged dove" reminded me of "Sailing to Byzantium," except that you say   
   "no hopes will i sing" (Yeats at least has hopes of Byzantium). I love the   
   lines:   
      
    "neighbors endlessly stomp    
     and drag furniture    
     across a wooden floor"   
      
   It reminds me of the poetry and pain of LeoK.   
      
   Don't know what you've been going through, dear Rachel, but it's sure nice to   
   have you back, and to see the fine lines you've been writing.    
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)