PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

My heart blundered  

down to decay, like

leaves forsaking

trees in Autumn. This

is a desolate time

for living. Death

all around me. Nothing

but bare branches

once in bloom. There

will be no Spring

this year. Only rot

arising from the dead

without you. Don’t

know why you

were so untrusting,

so unsure of both

you and us, never

telling me what I

did wrong. Vacating

and running away into

the arms of another

artiste. Someday

there will be one

who can easily put

up with you. As for me

there is a void

where nothingness

cannot hollow out

this tormenting abyss,

where grief seduces

its own sorrow.