I stand alone on fragile bridges
Tainted and profaned
Swaying with the trees
And drifting with the wind,
Watching heavenly cherubs cry
And listening to gargoyles laugh.
I stoop below fragile bridges
To wash white robes in pools of blood
That flow beneath,
Waiting for a deluge that never comes
To wash away the stains
Or drown away the pain.
I sit beside fragile bridges
On withered banks of yesterday's green
A familiar taste of salt on my lips,
Subordinate to a blazing sun
Dulling my senses
And blinding my sight.
Far from the crumbling, fragile bridges,
Beside the crimson water
We stand together
And in silence
We sadly look upon these frail bonds
That have desecrated and defiled.
© Sofie Maria
Written November 1998
