The Captive

The Captive

She came to him on wisps of Autumn wind.
He lured her in and covered any trace.
A captive, in his squalor, she was pinned
beneath his darkness and his cold embrace.

He wrapped himself around her innocence,
and through the winter freeze, with him she lay
entwined, in dirty bed, amongst the scents
of others who were also led astray.

When in the silence of his filth, she'd sow
her dreams of pristine lovers in the sun;
with ending trickles of the fading snow,
she rose and finished what she had begun.

From his possessive grip and into Spring's,
the spindly seedling spread her leafy wings.