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The Diva

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Catherine F:
The Diva

Her song is a long suffering
The scream of a knife tearing
a velvet gown
a broken crown.

Her bright smile
so sad
echoes
with the dead light of her eye.

She is a dark tragedy
black crows for eyebrows
and pale hands around her mouth
for a long thin cry.

Dansinger:
It's probably not what you had in mind, but reading this poem, I see Edvard Munch's "The Scream".

Shivers down my spine.

Catherine F:
It is not what I had in mind indeed, but I can see your point ! Though I did have the shiver down the spine feeling intention.

Jewel:
Much encapsulated in so few words. I can hear the soprano.

Small nit only
Either:
Her song is a long suffering
The scream of a knife tearing
or
Her song is a long suffering
The scream of a knife tearing

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