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Ruins of a Broken Heart

May 14, 2009
By Anonymous

Among the unknown all hope is lost; love can never prevail/

Only darkness surrenders/
A woman draped in Gothic ruins/
Waiting… but she can’t remember why/


Only darkness surrenders/
The iron pole leaves rust in the snow as she drags her body/
Waiting… but she can’t remember why/






We can hear her as she screams, but no one understands her pain/





The iron pole leaves rust in the snow as she drags her body/
Her eyes like marbles, reserved and
distant/






We can hear her as she screams, but no one understands her pain/
Her frail figure bare and vulnerable/


Her eyes like marbles, reserved and distant/


Grime layers her red nails as she pulls at the earth/
Her frail figure bare and vulnerable/






She struggles to breathe as ice coats her interior/


Grime layers her red nails as she pulls at the earth/
No name can claim her/
She struggles to breathe as ice coats her interior/
Shall she have no savior?/


No name can claim her/


She tells it to stop… her heart pounds/





Shall she have no savior?/
Only the hollow whispers of darkness remains/


She tells it to stop… her heart pounds/





Thorns mount her back/

Only the hollow whispers of darkness remains/

Wrapping her jagged limbs about the thrashing body/


Thorns mount her back/
How can ones soul be naked and raw… and continue to live?/
Wrapping her jagged limbs about the thrashing body/

Agony fills her head as she sees them together; though she can not place them/


How can ones soul be naked and raw… and continue to live?/
They are of the unknown but mock her so/



Agony fills her head as she sees them together; though she can not place them/


One last breath, she moaned as her heart broke into pieces/


They are of the unknown but mock her so/
Her body now still like the darkness around her/
One last breath, she moaned as her heart broke into pieces/
Among the unknown all hope is lost; love can never prevail

© Anonymous

The author's comments:
This poem was inspired by a true event; though it is fictional and is that of a pontoon poem.When writing this poem I was inspired by my seventy year-old neighbor who has dementia. One night I was writing poetry, or at least trying to when my dogs started barking and ran to the window. I looked, yet was unable to see anything but the ice and snow in my yard. I went back to my seat, (which was a few feet from the window) when suddenly I had a feeling that someone was outside. I looked once more, alarmed, as I saw some sort of billowing fabric, then looked closer and saw a person in a hooded coat; my neighbor. I was scared to death as this was entirely unexpected. She continued to hobble through the snow (cain in hand) into our yard. This event, though somewhat scary, really triggered my imagination, my poem being the direct evidence.
Overall I was left with the impression that there is something extremely mysterious, or unanswered about her entire person, that brought my mind to a lost “being”. This “being” was described in my poem, though it remains unknown as far as what or whom she is. I wanted to leave this up to the reader, as I’m almost certain all can conclude some image. I would also like to note that in writing this poem, I really stepped outside of the box; following a darker path than I ever have.
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