An unfortunate devotion; A soldier.
A brave soldier is a human being too. Imperfect and forgetful. A soul.
How can I love if my heart is exhaustive of soil. So quick to fall apart in affection.
Like the peeling of pulling petals. A mellifluous flower is the most precious thing in this life. Why?
It's the intimacy of being beloved. The intention to make love.
And over the lilied water and in the roses of the evening; we lived.
My dearest; a single star is uttered in the window of course. And I still think of you.
The sun radiates through your embodiment. The wind chills between the gaps of the leaves, harmonising melodies.
Then I lost you, loath by death.
Soul was bound to the dirt.
On the pain of death, I had to be careful about my own actions. Thoughts even.
As I wept, stars fell from her eyes. Worlds ended. Just stopped.
I will use a flower petal for papers and write to you the sweetest letters. To you. Heart belonged to you, ached for you.
They fondled my trigger and then blamed my gun. Why can't I forget. Forgive.
From your decaying body, flowers bloomed, and you are them and that is eternity.
Two gravestones now stand side by side. Love combined within roots as they now hold hands. I had a duty of care.
After all this time, mold have broken into the cracks of the last fragment of everything that ever was. Our souls intertwined in the rain, the flowers, love letters and it was beautiful.
by victoria
YOU ARE READING
Trinity Poem; Tragic Lovers Of The Past
Poetryfor you, the hopeless tragic lovers The Trinity Poem; An Unforgettable Endlessness An Unfortunate Devotion and An Unforeseen Nemesism
