The howling winds of a predestined tempest fiercely echo into her ears. She sits outside her window, hanging her toes off the edge of reason. Tears rain down her fragile face, reminiscing a life where everything made sense. She is desperate to hold onto the hopes of a rescue from what could have been, an unknown, future love. Yet, with a broken heart, she lives in turmoil, with no hopes of a release from the grim nothing.
The man, whom she loved , has gone to another place, a place of forgetting, or so she has been told.
Unforgettable is the scent of his chest where she spent many hours. Unforgettable are the sensational emotions his hands evoked in her. Unforgettable are the hours spent talking ’til the sun came up; his sultry voice; and the faint breath that fell upon her face while he slept.
In the back room of her mind, Death romantically strums the strings of a Stradivarius. With every glide of the wand, her heart bleeds. She breathes in one last time, the life of his memory, and dives into the abyss. There she will remain for the rest of her days, blanketed with the darkness that has beckoned her for so long.
Nearing the end of its life.
Dying to a Rhythm
Of its own love song.
Tears trickle down the weary soul,
Watering the remains of the day.
Prejudice kisses blown
Crashing into the heart of another
Spirit lingers inside an abyss.
Tortured by tempests
Coming her way.
to love’s suicide.
Forbidden thoughts of another
Penetrate her dreams.
Writing style inspired by: A. Long