Posted in life, Poems, Uncategorized

Decay

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,

 

broken

 

fragile china doll

s h a t t e r e d

Little lungs at a loss for life.

 

silence

 

The silent echo of loss,

Decay

 

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.”

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Author:

I am a young and enthusiastic writer, fresh out of highschool and into college at IUSB. I babysit and work and live life to it's fullest. I write. I read. I do yoga. And plan to become. Yoga intructers as well. I grew up on a farm and can't,t wait to move back to the country in my tiny house I have already planned out. Sometimes I'm a little melodramatic but rarely. I'm a spiritual healer, a hopeless romantic, a book worm, and very nostalgic. Thanks for stopping by.

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