From the Grave
As I stood and watched the dripping, splashing, and diluting,
my thoughts focused on the ripping, slashing, and pain shooting.
A knife bloodied, let go and dropped to the floor by my side,
anticipated the moment to arrive, the one where I have died.
I waited as I faded, and dissipated leaving my confinements view,
that vision of my lover waving, calling me to come through.
Weakened as I took a bent knee, sat, and laid by the knife,
the darkness came and distorted my vision, ending my life.
- Author: Maplespal (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: July 9th, 2024 14:19
- Comment from author about the poem: nothing to say
- Category: Surrealist
- Views: 11
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