Lost Love

Lost Love

No thorn cuts so deep,
as that of lost love.
It's crawls it's way into existence,
to become a creature of its own.
Breathed out from the dark and icy bowls,
the very depth of our deepest inner sorrows.

It stabs at the very soul of it's victim,
Taunting them with memories,
that creep up at the most random moments when all seems well.
It invades their dreams,
clawing and scratching till every shred of hope is gone.

The beast is born of our hurtful words,
our sorrowful wails as the painful truth "He's gone"
seeps in through a crack in the wall.
It feeds off the gnashing of teeth,
the throbbing pain within my chest.

There is no sweeter death,
that the death of this beast.
When it slithers back from where it came into the recesses of my heart,
Until awakened again.