Tomb Raider

The rime of ancient winters seals his eyes,
immune to beauty’s light, embracing gloom,
a skin of ice around his still heart lies,
and stony silence fills his frozen tomb.

And like a vine upon a rocky shelf,
with brown-edged leaves that droop and curl from thirst,
his soil is stone, he feeds upon himself
and passes days alone, apart, accursed.

But then there comes a rumble in the stones,
a knife of sunlight rips the cryptic dark,
the warm, wet heat of life bestirs his bones,
the breath of love ignites a glowing spark.

And eyes, once grey as death, now flash bright blue,
to gaze upon his savior, lover, you.