PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Oh Bastion, oh mine,
rueful and pink;
cleansed by the way folk
above Den Retreat.
They coddled your larder
and sank you in sod;
made you all rotten
by way of facade.
You smelled of the passing,
you looked badly burned
but I had no reason
to divulge what I'd learned.
You weren't mine for keeping,
you weren't mine at all;
you came from another
who's long seen the road.
Your matted gold hair locks
all caking with clod,
and each cheek so skinny,
so thinning and not.
I fear the dark too,
just as you'd cry.
I couldn't protect us,
I couldn't provide.
Bastion my only,
Bless me, forget
that I once existed
and let loose your hand.
Bastion my darling,
I'm finding my road.
Sleep for a while.
Sleep and you'll dream.