Sing silken songs Bard,
till we believe again.
Twist your flowery lyrics
into a diadem that crowns our fool heads
wiith more than this riddling
of thistle and thorn.

We lost sight
              when the blood of our pedestaled
              forerunners coursed over our eyes
and coagulated.
               
We lost hearing
              to the death screams haunting us,
              of fellow travellers fanged
              by wolves in wool capes.

We lost taste
              to bitter fruit that shone
              golden. Covert spiders paralysed our
              tongues with the first bite.

We lost touch
              when our hands numbed in the rope
              thrown to save, yet pythoned into
binds to capture and crush us.

We lost smell
              to the burnt offerings of those
              masquerading as prophets and
priests,as we inhaled flamed
cyanide witchery.

Sing silken songs Bard,
till we believe again.
Twist your flowery lyrics
into a diadem that crowns our fool heads
wiith more than this riddling
of thistle and thorn.

Bring us back to our senses.

Nice poem .

Beautiful. I really like the format you used when you posted each of the five senses. Seeing it laid out like that was poetic in itself.

Thank you so much Bonnie. The format was not exact as I imagined.
Apologies. I am still writing dark poetry as I grieve my two husbands. Just not there yet, you know, so it will remain dark till I find a romantic source.
You and Mark inspire me. But I will not comment on your love. My love found on Mingle broke me when he died. It actually hurts to see your love.
Please understand 🧡

BEAUTIFUL