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I lie on the marble floor with a cool breeze caressing my surface
Who wiped the red off my glass blade and left without a trace?
I remember a pale hand gripping my blue hilt
As her fingers wrapped around the waves etched into it
Forged from the rarest of gems, I only touched the wealthiest skins
Is it my fault, I wonder, for completing the aristocrats' sins?
I was passed from some broken lady to another proud lord
As if these hushed tasks were ever done with bright knightly swords
A noble's daughter stabbing his compulsive mistress
Her father murdering the servant for being an unfortunate witness
Too many names plague the parchment of my dreadful memories
But no one shall ever hear of these dismal stories
However, this ruthless killer had left a beautiful weapon all clean
A woman of skill who washed the blood lathered all over me
She had settled me still near a cushioned chair
So, all I can do is stay and stare
Now, why do I hear the rustling of shoes and jewellery?
Am I still not free from my actions of treachery?
She picks me up with her delicate palm as the white floor meets the velvet skirt
And I prophesy how many more bodies will my crystal tip hurt?
-Grisha. S
YOU ARE READING
DROPS OF SCARLET
PoetryFeatured on @WattpadPoetry reading list 'Stygian Skies' "I dream as a soulless spirit where the only music I hear is the drops of scarlet" This poetry collection follows the tales of three women lost in the past and objects they surround themselves...
