The Lion's Book: A Poetry Collection

Afterwards

The bones of tattered, lonely ones

Can only be defined

As hollow, aching voids

That are left to slowly die.

The rattles echo in their cores

And whine like spirits blue

Replacing all the choirs

Their chambers fondly knew.

No smiles offer them remorse

Or cleanse their open wounds

And yet there is a comfort

They find in solitude.

What remedy is given

To bones of broken hearts

Besides the empty promises

Of those who did depart?

There is none.

A/N: Yay! School's out, which means I can be active on Wattpad again :D Not so sure about adding that last line in there to abruptly end things, but I'm gonna try experimenting with new styles of poetry. So I guess change is good?