Panic floods over her like
Waves beating in a storm-tossed sea
Swallowing everything in its virulent clutches

Sorrow is the most peculiar of subjects

Love lost--
No love left to gain
A stroke for each abuse.
A transpierce for his adulterous smile--
Punishing herself for his wicked ways
A volcanic eruption
Spewing blood down the sides
He stands transfixed,
Blood fleeing his face
As it flees the trench in her chest
She collapses to her knees,
Wrenches out her own oozing heart--
And throws it at his feet

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem