Snow outlined by steep dark stone,
A stroke of red in monochrome.
Cold seeping into broken bone.
Don't wait for me when you get home.
Agony dulled by the shock of the fall.
No time to regret following you.
It was always out of our control.
At least I got to see this through.
One last apology cast to the winds,
One last word into the bleakness.
And as I lie here, a butterfly pinned.
I think, perhaps we are our weakness.
Hey now, old lover, old friend,
They say all good things come to an end.
YOU ARE READING
Scattered Ponderings
PoetryA single note, it reads *Remember to write something profound here* (cover credit is to @adnali - if anyone's reading this, check out her stuff, it's so good) (spn & fandom is marked in title)
