Death by Love

17 Sep


And there she was dying
And the death didn’t stop
It found her at every step
And covered her like a blanket
Consuming her until she could bare it no more
What is this love she felt?
A wasted heart
A wasted soul
A wasted purpose
What became of the joy?
And the most excruciating part of the pain –
That was as tangible as a taught string
At breaking point
As audible as a solitary violin on a single note –
The consumption of the grief
On a loop
And one continuous thought –
The holder of the heart frozen in time
Hers alone was the pain to hold

C Flaxton


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