Font Color='#880000'Too Soon/Font
A mortared prison, stained per my array,
by David Zvekic
No windows there may peer or look ahead,
All panes made blank by muted memory,
And as such seals may set, no visions thread
Until these walls transfix with warmer use:
Bright daylight razing all to show my Muse.
In barren corridors, I cannot test,
For open eyes, the light, can't bear to see;
The night, much more than day, does spend my rest,
So cold and silence tower over me.
Too soon, untrammeled Love was for the sky,
So firm, these walls cemented: Never I.