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    Bran Artus Kin New Member

    Member Since:
    Mar 19, 2011
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    (I'm not sure if this counts as a quatrain poem since it has 2 longer stanzas...)

    Divided in half by memories past,
    Past by memories compiled,
    Specters they - they take no rest,
    As if by sorrow now devoured.

    So she sits and weeps and weeps,
    In a cardigan severed by tears,
    They drip and drip so softly drip,
    Not a shroud of pain they clear.

    Cries echo far – atworts the cause
    Its corollary - her dismay
    Sighing, sobbing at her loss
    It has come the dreaded day!

    To the gallows he’ll be taken,
    Where people cheer by death’s smell wakened,
    He’ll be taken, taken, taken,
    Where the vultures pinch at corpses dangling,
    Wrangling, wrangling birds of death,
    Vultures with a deathly path!

    The night is ending anxious sighing,
    A river of tears till now was cried,
    Her head between her knees declining,
    Ah, she was to be his bride!

    Now she stands on window leaning,
    Red eyes tired of the pain,
    Her soul long since ceased its clinging,
    No hope left for it has fain’ed!

    She lifted her dress and she stepped,
    Slender on the window sills,
    “Ah, in my heart you’ll be kept,
    Our loves those many thrills!”

    Across the courtyard he was taken,
    Early in the morning wakened,
    He was taken, taken, taken,
    Early in the mornings gloom,
    By whom, by whom to his death,
    Last steps t’wards the deathly path!


    He caught her body with a glance,
    Lying there ‘Neath plums of flowers,
    Cold body in a death like stance,
    “Resting in those dreams of ours!”

    “Sweetheart I will see thee soon!”
    He whispered in a solemn tone,
    “In the havens, above the moon,
    We will be at last alone!”

    In front of crowds he was hung,
    Hung on the sin’ster gallows,
    The seraphs to his death they sung,
    In a darker Melos!

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