Cymon and Iphigenia (Frederic Leighton, 1884)
The better word is one that’s never spoken, At least say those who preach in Prudence’ name, For many a heart there’s been laid bare and broken By reckless tongues that run faster than shame. So then, I hold my peace – it burns my fingers Such as a flaming heart would, held in hand. Each new unspoken word lights up and lingers Falling like ash upon the burning sand. Silence is golden? So was Aaron’s calf, Not all that’s made of gold glitters so bright. “He took it to his grave” 's no epitaph To carry gently into that good night. So be it – should words leave my love devoured I’d rather die heartbroken than a coward.
Great imagery (and I agree with the sentiment :P). I especially enjoyed:
"Each new unspoken word lights up and lingers
Falling like ash upon the burning sand."
Love the golden reference to Tolkien! Looking forward to reading more of your poems.