Lyre's Clutch

Lyre's Clutch

Sing! Melodious lyre and deliver me
A recompense for my grief with your sorrowed strings,
Sound rapturous up through the bowed juniper trees.
I cast off my sackcloth, my ashen aching flesh;
This jackal place! I put on the moss of abyss,
Their loquacious tongues wag on and on circumspect,
On how best to divide my wearied ruined meat.
My fingers damp, fruit stained dark, rub the strings and bleed,
Sandy loam relents to weight of my coal-born cheeks.
Sweetest melody measured soft with subtle truss,
Uplift my contrite neck, reconstitute my dust,
Grasp these marrow blighted bones in your mending clutch.