Those eyes lay hidden against
her ardent tresses, melancholious
Those crimson streaks encasing her
The scene layed painful
Her pale face and crimson remains
Not obscure but lays bare
Those once neat clothes, threadbare
The stiff body motionless
The crimson blade that scintillates in the moonlight
That rests beside her exited face
A tragedy with a remote reason
The secret held by the night
As though her ultimate design
Was to confund her beau and despisers alike
She plainly expresses
The charm within catastrophe
Like a lotus encased with soiled douse
A twinkle, beside her departed soul
Which now rests among ever watching stars
Her smile was always an obvious pleasure
But now, it lay hidden amongst her
The dark secret of her mind
The shrouded mystery, obstinate.
My heavy heart and brimming tears
That remain as my faithful company, hears
With a bravery to accept the disliked
I express in an unarticulate style
She's gone I say
Gone with the wind
An unknown din calls up to me
The cursed domain
Or her unexpected smile
The jolt in me remains anonymous
As the air of sorrow loiters
The wandering mind wonders
Would the prodigious experience wither?
The question hangs unanswered
YOU ARE READING
Gone With The Wind
PoetryThis Is a poem describing the feelings of a person who just lost his loved one,whose means of death is not clear.
