The dark night held her in his arms
Weaving regret into her thoughts
Bringing to the surface old wounds
He covered her eyes with his hands
Blinding her to the light of the stars
Creating bleak and gloomy shadows
Macabre visions forming plans
Inspiring concepts best left buried
Raising notions from the dead
Of revenge and stained retribution
He sat looking at her, desiring her
Waiting for his darkness to consume her
Her tangible despair evident in her posture
Her eyes void of liquid strength
Fallen fall leaves stuck to her nude form
She looked for the moon but saw only death
Standing there beckoning her, consoling her
With one last search for a sign in the sky
She raised the knife and whispered goodbye
A romantic death, indeed. Full of imagery.
Very nice, Hasty.
Hey pretty…did you get my poem back
I did.
I’m anticipating coming up with a response. If work is slow, ill get to it even earlier.
No hurry sometimes I get lost
Whew dark but such depth.
Really good, but certainly heavy.
This was beautiful! the end especially!
That was so intense