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Rated: E · Prose · Death · #897289
This is the second poem I ever wrote at the age of 14
The Last Walk

I walked upon the cold, stony path which curved desolately through the grey mass of woods. Silence echoed through despair and despair mimicked a sadness, as absinth lay drooping beside this wayside. The weeping willow was lost in its own deluge and blossoms of sweet violet were strewn and crushed by the chill of the wind. My heart, much encumbered, remembered a misty past, telling only of my long lost love. As the absinth, as the weeping willow, as the sweet violet...so it was with my fading spirit. Alone with my tears and separated from the present and future, I sat upon the cold stony path. I closed my eyes wearily and finally I joined...my long lost love.
© Copyright 2004 McKinzie S. Heart (mckinziesheart at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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