(From the Painting of George Frederic Watts)
Upon the globe she sits
Solitary in space,
Where time reigns.
Blindfolded,
As her head bent
Gravely in despair
By her lyre
With broken strings of bliss,
She holds unhappily
To her heart.
Her legs bent to the left,
with her left below her right.
Somber she is
Pale like her gown
Drenched
In moist sorrow.
She waits longingly,
Pining away
With desire,
For rapture of peace and love
Full in purity
As a shower of relief
To descend upon
Where she sits.
Obinna Kenechukwu Eruchie
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hope-329/
