Broken Promises

The lock on the Gate
Is rusted over with age,
Long ago forgotten.
Passers-by look on,
Curiosity brightening their eyes
And occasionally,
One soul searches in vain
Dreaming of treasures
Beyond his ken.
Alas, the quest is short.
A small movement
Caught from the corner
Of an eye
Whisks him off to a new,
Exciting adventure.
Time and again,
The pattern is weaved into
A Tale of
Loneliness and Despair
For the One
Who drinks it all in,
The Keeper of the Gate.
Intended so long ago
As a haven from Danger,
Serving to wound all the more
As thwarted hopes are realized.
The eternal sigh
Clinging to her lips
As she watches
Time march on
Without her.

The gate holds little interest
For those seeking
Selfish pleasure.
And yet they do not realize...
They mock the
Sacred bond of Friendship,
Some forsaking Love itself.
So careless...
So easy...
For them^@ that is...
Not so for her.
Each adventurer passing by
Drives a Sliver of Ice
Into her heart.
One by one they seal her fate,
Multiplying doubts,
Destroying trust.

She turns from her
Vantage Point,
Praying for blindness,
Trying desperately to
Avoid the inevitable.
Yes always, she must look back,
Search their eyes,
The mirror of the soul-
Finding nothing.

Weeping in bitter agony,
Endless suffering...
Begging for at least One
To look beyond the rust,
To clear away the thorns,
To discover the key within
The true, shining soul,
The banisher of ancient doubt,
The preserver of a
Friendless maiden.
Creaking hinges
Revealing the splendor
Of an Untried Heart,
A hidden beauty.

Alas, her dreams fade
And she looks on,
Afraid to hope,
Ever-vigilant in her watch
Over
The Gate of Broken Promises.

Danielle Baker
-2/24/93