PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

It's a dark, gloomy night

and She lay there, on the damp wet concrete

bewailing at the decease of Her now lost lover

the torment of entity now concealed

with anticipation to abnegate 

denial in Her eye 

Refusing the mourning that wish to 

weep from the twin pair of light blue eye

She sits up straight 

with dagger in hand 

takes a breath and raises Her hand

She feels the puncture

rapid breaths 

She falls into the arms 

of Her lost lover

reacquiring the vow

for the rest of their lives.