The Devastated

Roses are red, violets are blue, but yet I don’t know how I feel about you.
You say you love me and I thought it was true, but is there still me and you.
You say it’s over, but now you can’t recall, was there even a me and you at all.

You hurt me like no one has ever before, but that’s no excuse.
For the way you acted, the way you talked to me.
Nor the way you made me cry, but not for the devastation you caused;
I wouldn’t have realized what was at hand.

The death of us was there only for me to understand.
A crippling event at the brig of destruction.
Only at the hand of the one who left.

Only to the bird who flew away, where my heart would’ve stayed.
Until the fall came and the winter swept away all the pieces of my shattered heart.
And still to this day you can see the foot prints that made an impression in the sand.
And the blood of a maiden who was slain by her own lovers hand.