Heart Of Stone
Heart Of Stone
Walking through the gallery
One can see utmost splendour
In vintage expressing forms,
Oiled canvas and pastille smiles
And souls trapped in tombs of clay.
Portraits of either gender's
Bizarre naked human form,
Some of which have travelled miles.
Halls now empty, void of life.
Leave me standing here alone
And cold for the rest of time.
If only I could feel pain,
Empty halls would be my strife.
But with a heart carved of stone
Infinite nothing is mine,
An advantage, nothing gained.
Time worn crooked breaking frames
Hold treasures of culture's past,
Smiles that faded long ago
Are seen within cold dead eyes
On faces, some without names.
How long can these treasures last?
As your interest in them slows
Your culture will slowly die.
Now I sit gathering dust,
Never feeling human love.
Slightly broken, slightly frayed.
I have sat for countless years.
Taunted by oil canvas lust,
And darkened windows above.
Foolishly left and betrayed,
Please come carve a single tear.
- D.Ashford