Belle du Lac

The sword has inked for her,
Excalibur.
The Lady of the Lake
sits quietly by,
lost in the mists.
A tear runs slowly, endlessly,
pooling at her feet.
Ripples spreading to the universes shores,
As a million stars shoot across the sky
Gods tears. . .
raining towards the earth.
All is forgiven,
Nothing forgotten.


dlt © Dec. 20 2004