Posted in life, Poems, Uncategorized


She wept diamond tears

that froze in the stillness of winter.

Some things never change,

decay fighting decay.

Weak knees and time locked vision;

It is long past her time of grieving

they say,

ignorant of the real pulse lasting;

decay fighting decay.

She kneels at carved, regal stone

to feel the needlepoint pain, alone,

but never alone,

she murmurs a prayer

for him who could not stay.

Around him a dozen red petals

–translucent skin–

decay fighting decay.



They found her face down

on his side of the bed,




fragile china doll

s h a t t e r e d

Little lungs at a loss for life.




The silent echo of loss,



I would love to hear your thoughts on this poem because it is another one of my less personal ones and more sad ones. I wrote this in class today( Confession, as I do with most of my poems) but this is a rather short ad to the point poem.What are your thoughts?

-Eva M. M.

” Me and the pen, we are one. If its ink would cease to flow, my ink would cease to flow.”



I am the author of and am currently working on a book of poems. To find out more check out my about me page as well as my page about my blog and welcome to the ink angels community.

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