Litnet

Foto: Canva.com

Gargoyle

Now, (the once heavenly nights besides), 
I long no more for you; 
you, who gashed my soul 
and left me maimed 
and stumbling into
blind alcoves of myrrh, 
frangipani and the spiky 
thorns of rose.

Now, as I lurk 
in sightless nights, 
and against the floriferous 
beauty of the past, 
behold my face: 
a petrified,
spouting 
and grimly 
contorted mask.