Saturday, October 02, 2004

Blood





Blood

The bright crimson oozes
from my broken, torn melting heart.
The blood stains my white poet’s blouse scarlet
As it slowly seeps down.
The torture of a love not fulfilled.
The pain is like electric shocks
Through to my very soul.

The Reaper’s
dead cold brittle fingers
clutch at my throat.
I smile into his jade eyes
and nod toward his silver scythe.
“Be done with it!”
“The pain I cannot take any more.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home