VOLUME LXVII: Flowers ~ "To Hye"

My precious darling, art thou suffering?
What wary troubles hath thee been hiding?
The beautiful pain some conceal in vain.
The wretched pity from others we gain.

Painter, poet, liar, thy art well verse
My high princess doth fool the universe.
With thy satin and lace and thy doll face,
Thou art stranded in this bamboozled place,

Whence looming gray shadows stretch for miles,
Whence only the night gone pitch black smiles
If only they can see through thine brown eyes,
The world stripped bare of its rancorous lies.

Alas! Do behold man’s tragic downfall
Behind the green hedges and white washed wall.
Torturous screams within the dark hours
Silenced beneath the bed of spring flowers.

Centuries of unforgivable crimes
Overlooked for the sake of peaceful times.
The foul stench of inevitable death
Lingering within a newborn’s first breath.

When all is said and done, my dearest Hye.
Thou art a mirror reflection of me.