The Tainted Row

She walked along the tainted row; of lilies, poppies and roses stacked high on plates of silver and gold.

It was the dead of winter where nothing should grow.

Reason and logic are intrinsically tied and tattered to trial and test.

Although, it is unlike all of the rest.

A flower blooms where love consumes… in shadowy corners unknown.

Melissa June Daniels

Copyright 2014

Taken at Rolling Hills Asylum in Upstate New York.
Taken at Rolling Hills Asylum in Upstate New York.

Penance and Woe


These are my written words.

A small yet monumental chronicle of my love,

blowing you an infinity of kisses.

Billowing into your spirit,

like the curtains of an open window.

Oh, the lament I bear within my soul!

To have tattered your delicate fabric,

within my hurricane force winds.

Forgive me, my love.

My strength had overwhelmed me.

Time records ceaselessly unending nights.

Rolling out my tear soaked carpet,

For my penance and woe.

My feet sinking deep into the wetness.

My soul marred and caked in heartache.

In the vast expanse of darkness,

I once had a vision,

of a radiant beacon.

A light,

unlike any I have ever seen,

with my own eyes.

I began to dance with elation,

like a ballerina on Christmas Eve.

A dizzying state had encompassed me,

As I spun into the vortex,

of your arms.


I awaken,

from some dream like torment.

Puffy faced and sweaty,


Suffering and questioning,

an unanswerable question,

Was it a vortex or a wormhole?

©Melissa June Daniels