For anyone who ever felt there was no hope
A flame to melt the heart
Of those who's eyes
Are like that of a sharks
Cruel and cold
Or simply bold?
Who knows
Whichever way the wind blows
Is where she goes
Her own way
Every day
Never makes the same mistake twice
Or she'd pay for it with her life
A touch of kindness
Pure self blindness
Beautiful and sweet
The mind creates ways not to be beat
A final, caring glance
With the devil she performs a dance
As footsteps fade away
Suddenly she feels not so gay
You cannot retrieve what is now gone
There is not much more for her beyond
A silent movement
Done out of fear
Slowly from her neck falls
A crimson tear
It falls to the ground
The knife drops down
A cry is uttered
The tear is joined by its brothers
The footsteps return
With not much discern
Pain escapes his lips
His voice rises, then dips
Those cold, dead eyes
Say their last goodbye
Once so cold and dry
Now as warm as a lit fire
A fleeting smile
"Won't you stay a while?"
"I never left", says he
"I was always here"
"Spreading the good cheer"
But now, alas
The end is near
Says she,"Don't cry, my dear,"
"It is almost here"
I am alive
I am human
Even though I never cried
She smiles
The jury is out on her final trial
And then, in his arms
She dies.
YOU ARE READING
Ink
PoetryInk. Words. Writing. The very thing that binds us together. That makes us all equal. That both silences us, and gives us a voice. The item that saves lives, and takes others. It is where all stories, poems, sonnets and long gone tales once start...
