Warden of Discourse

This marriage is an institution with the pallor of gray.

It could have been Eden had you chosen to stay.

It was a garden tended and a garden grown.

Now barren sand at your hands left alone.

                                                                                                                                          You’ve become the melancholic warden of divorce.

Now I stumble a horrible path of discourse.

Once we planted seeds of love so astute.

Heed…anarchy of heart, bears no fruit.

Held in manacles, unreleased by chains.

Divorce cannot really release me from my pains.

You’re a snide warden who is tossing all emotion aside.

Thrown into a sea of uncertainty, caught by a riptide.

Morning whispering becomes blistering nightmares in the dark.

These are the children of your promises sworn on a lark.

Warmth and compassion you don’t understand.

Life’s beauty isn’t cold money and keys to be held in hand.

The wrongly imprisoned cry out “ where is the key.”

Warden of discourse won’t you please set me free.

The beautiful memories are locked away doing time.

Locked up and discarded at the drop of a dime.

Hear the echoing chamber of an unloved soul?

Realize mirrored imprisonment without parole.

Illogical how’s and why’s are the only inmates.

What’s happened to my soulmate turned ingrate?

My only crime was health ravaged over time.

Caught stealing away romance so sublime.

Warden of discourse, free me to tend my garden.

Healed now in God’s time please grant my pardon.