I ran,
and cried
and begged.
But still, I fell
in hopeless grief.
A broken mess;
a leafless tree.
One soul sinking in agony.
I breathed without air,
walked without steps,
and cried without tears.
I died a million deaths
as I watched life leaving her lips.
I watched her blink
and blink some more,
until her eyes could blink no more.
Empty.
Hollow.
Dead.
Life is my chore.
*****
A/N:
The title of the song in the media is 'Cold' by Jorge Mendez.
In life, we love so deep that when it leaves, it cuts just as deep. We love and lose and bleed, and sometimes living becomes a walking nightmare. A trap for an eternal longing, forever unanswered.
Almost always, it's just hard to say goodbye. And some of us are lost souls in life's maze of grief; wandering mindlessly amidst ghosts of memories from the past.
I pray that you do not wander too far out of reach; there might be people struggling to find you.
- Mia
YOU ARE READING
Spilled Ink
PoetryA piece of soul in ink, and unto the paper it spilled. A collection of thoughts that rhyme from a wandering mind.
