Dining with death is a regular occasion for me.
He begs me to be his queen.
To be forever at his side.
It is tempting but still I say no.
I wonder if I should?
He begs and he begs
each evening
My no becomes less certain
My will more broken
Being his queen seems like an awfully nice thing
Still I know I would not be queen for long
He will find another after I am dead and gone
So still I say no
YOU ARE READING
Poetry of the soul
PoetryA soul is precious.it speaks a thousand words. Thanks to brooklynthedwarf &sophaloaf_13 for encouraging me to post my poetry and telling me that it is actually worth while.
