Her Garden Within Stasis

Eyes as hollow as awaiting flower pots, 
the fertility dug out from their depths;
still yet to bear the seeds
of vibrancy overlapped, absorbing the sun’s rays. 
Her head would sway down, figure wilted, 
hands overgrown on each other - 
fingers tangling together like roots. 

A conscious tied within the confines of a web,
weaved and formed from the strings of melancholy. 
Strung and plucked within the grasp of a weepy widow; 
like frail violin strings ready to snap -
letting it all come undone. 

Songs played silent, 
the only beat being her streams, intense, flowing just under the surface.
An untapped underground spring; 
raw, pure. 
With lanterns hanging, still awaiting to guide those
towards the unsteady pools -
even within the last life of their flames.
Yet still dwell moths 
clustering, batting their silken wings within the walls of her throat
;engulfed in the flickering lights of rattled breaths,
smothering it away. 

Her soul was festering,
enclosed within itself -
cocooned in darkened caverns, 
with parasites feasting and growing, 
ever consuming;
she was plagued to the touch -
leeches sapping at her ecstasy.

Then came a haze, 
a thick smog over coming her;
intoxicating as it filled her lungs. 
the toxic clouds spiralling around,
rotting her thorn-exterior,
pesticides cleansing her 
of that in which tunnelled beneath her skin,
;down to a skeleton made of budded rose vines, 
he slowly cleansed her plagued gardens, 
encouraging the new growth which lay dormant. 

And thus she drank him down to ash;
rose buds flourishing
with a new coat of toxin.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

I enjoy your poetry. Had the spirit of myth and realness. Your description making the scene come alive for the reader.
"And thus she drank him down to ash;
rose buds flourishing
with a new coat of toxin."
I like the above line. A rebirth of a sort. Thank you for sharing the excellent poetry.
Coyote

[William Gardner]

you don't need like roots, it's clear. A better word than melancholy? Try sprung? not spring. Good last line- try not to be too clever, be real, you do it well.