'The Question'

'The Question'

Sadness puts the hairline cracks

Into a heart of Gold

And makes a pattern of its own

A story to unfold

Patina soft with colors gray

As each new story fills

and cracks spread out

in patterns bold

and causes awful ills

Until the heart now filled with pain

Bursts open...bleeds...is stilled

Who is to blame? Circumstance?

Or was this angel killed?

Kesti ©

January, 2000