Saturday, October 11, 2014
A Twisted Tale by A.S. Washington
Her love raged for him,
Like an unending tempest,
Primal was the fire that burned inside,
No need for thought, their love the simplest.
Rare she was, with rosy cheeks,
Those she rested upon his chest,
His touch remain there, even gone for weeks,
To heaven she affirmed, "I'm surely blessed."
For a decade they remained as one,
Sweethearts since high school times,
Innumerable numbered the days of love,
She did not count after seeing his eyes.
"Forever my dear, my love will rage,"
He had said it in the softest of speech,
In her mind before, much of insanity played,
She said, "Lover that is my relief."
Yet on that fateful day the bell did ring,
Policeman, stood with a face of longing,
"I do not know how to tell you this thing here,"
Immediately then, she fell into mourning.
That night she sat alone with watery eyes,
Pressing the blade deep into broken heart,
Her tears ran hot, trickling down her cheeks,
Away slowly did fade her thoughts.
As she fell down dead, her note did read,
"This twisted tale, this bloody endeavor,
Will allow me to join you in death than die living,
For a moment without you's forever."
In This Dark Room
Fear Not Living Well
America Of Mine