Death somehow seems so hollow now
A fragile plea I whispered into the air,
Scattered the healing scars on my heart.
I loved her sweet words;
Woven into a fairytale
Made of honey.
I spoke out of love and trust;
Only to get dismissed by my muse,
Who've found my voice so free.
Her pain must've been far more grand
Than mine,
Then why's the wound still bleeding?
How dare she say its humour,
Leaving me sad and stranded.
My tears came out as pearls in the
Night sky.
For every wound,
Tears whispered a tale of sad
I never thought I could hear.
In quite nights,
My fears reappear.
-skeletal poet
YOU ARE READING
Skeletal Poet's Sonnents
PoesíaInvisible Lockets July 5th, Under the pine tree, Filling my lungs with butterflies Of your smile And sandal whispers of the ground. I must be the foolish one, Seeking for love When the cupid's arrow Struck striaght in my heart. So in love I...
