And I watched her as she twirled,
Laughed at her blissful naivety.
Bemoaned her loss that would come
Shortly.
She was woman.
She was Eve to his Adam,
Zipporah to his Moses,
Mary to his Joseph.
She was his.
I knew I should stop it.
Her loss of youth.
But what would I be
To change the order of the seasons?
I sat and watched as he eyed his prize.
Sat and watched as she flirted
With doom.
I knew she wouldn't live
After that night.
Yet,
I sat there,
Across the ballroom,
And I watched her as she twirled.
YOU ARE READING
Poetic Declarations
RandomThis is a collection of poems that vary depending on the mood that I was in. They are in no distinct order, just stuff I felt like sharing. A few of them may not be entitled. Enjoy.
