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by Whit Author IconMail Icon
Rated: ASR · Poetry · Death · #762951
a woman struggles with the loss of her love...her heart is wounded forever
A century old stain lays beneath the silk covering my breast.
Twill ne'er enough ink exist to compose the story of the eternal damage done.
The well holds the deep reflections of my aimless life
Faint memories of immaculate love, overcome my mind
Tis my beloved, who has forsaken me
The symphonies call me forward to claim my pass to heaven.
© Copyright 2003 Whit (pixies691 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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