Good Bye

December 9, 2011

The sound of

The shot that

Fired the bullet.

The seed that

Grew the crimson rose of

Blood on

My beloved's chest, who

Begins to fall.

I catch that hand,

Cool as a cadaver's,and


"Wake up from the grip of death."

But my beloved says in reply,

"I mustn't keep death waiting. Good-bye, my love."

"Good-bye. I love you."

The lids shut over blue-moon eyes, and

I let go.

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

Site Feedback