Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

A Murderess Was She

"One thousand loves, my dear."
She still hears his voice
As she wanders the dry
Hills and valleys.
She could almost taste him,
But deseperately tried to focus.
Her heart was heavy;
A murderess was she.
She'd deny it again.
He flew in her life so fast,
And betrayed her even faster.
"That's how many times..."
She held her hands over her ears,
As though to shut out the
Soul she tried to slaughter.
"...you murdered me..."
Her eyes glistened with tears,
Hoping it was all a misunderstanding.
She sits upon a rock,
Disorganized thought brewing.
She had come at him, but
Walked away, fingering the
Scar on her neck, still sore and healing.
He was nothing.
She tried hard to convince herself of this.
"...And brought me up again!"
His words sounding real, she looks up
To find his winged figure before her,
His eyes blazing red.

3-2-10
 


Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
A Murderess Was She

378,422 Poems Read

Sponsors