Jadeinne Sparrow: Soaring High

What beauty is in a poem when the writer is gone?
What flames are to kindle when no one’s left to warm?
What sleep is to waken when none lies on the bed?
What night is to lighten when no eyes longer open?

Is it odd that you feel that I see you in me,
As a goddess enchanted by grace of a nymph?
Do my eyes really hunger for flesh of the men?
Am I truly the reason your beauty did end?

If the laughter I breathed sound sweet in your ears,
Then why would you send Spartans to swoon on my feet?
If those echoes of joy did remain in your head,
Then why would you desert them in front of my den?

Why would tears on my face be your heart’s cause to sin,
When I never did envy your charms to those men?
Why’d your trespasses be as regard to your crime,
When I’ve lost all my doubts when you told me you’re mine?

And so setting me free felt so hard to sink in,
That the darkness are days when I wished you were here;
You may banish my corpse down a men-filled ravine,
But I’d draw time and space to return you to me.