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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Experience · #1502472
Thud thud thud...
The Path of a Broken Widow


Turn around and look behind you
Your past is haunting you every now and then.
Play your violin and hum your way through,
Until you get through the gates of the devil’s den.

Mimic those howling wolves and spend time with the dead
Paint some blood and create a sculpture of carcasses
Swim unto the vast graveyard of your husband’s deathbed
Until you grew tired of your tears and until your mind eases

Regret the day you lost your everlasting companion
Overcome everything that was shed and take it
Into the part of the human heart where there’ll be no intrusion
Because sadness will be your poison, cry only a bit…

That was just a dream, a spotlight of your weakness
It was an illusion caused by fear… not loss…
But there is still something existing called emptiness
But what’s with the sad face? All those memories are the ones you chose…

Don’t be a ruler to slander someone’s heart for comfort
It is not your pain to bear with, not your feelings to disembowel
Playing with fire shall bear your name as a demon’s last resort
Be the judge of it with a rage from sorrow and seal it with a navel




© Copyright 2008 Augustus Morcel (magzy at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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