Some call her eccentric

Some call her eccentric.
Some call her a ghost.
She wanders abandoned in this world.
No reassures to be found in her dark soul.
Her surrounding only causes her much despair.
She is alone constantly in her world.
She is haunted by the memories of her falling.
A black candle smolders on.
She is exquisite.
She is disoriented
She is filled with distrust.
She is disconnected.
She is abandoned.
She is insignificant person.
A black candle smolders on.
Then she catches a glimpse of him.
He walks unaccompanied in this world too.
She could see his agony within his body.
He stands alone within his painful world.
She could abstract his pain.
But would that change his anguish.
He catches a glimpse of her.
He runs after her.
She runs into the deep forest.
She hides from those who hunt her and him.
But her black candle never dies.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem