The Sharp Edge of a Rose

The New Cry Atlantic

Shes beautiful

With eyes so clear and blue,
Sight gone like a bullet.

I put my hand to the wall.

My breath is pilfered from my body,
Keeping her alive.

The air is draining from my lungs

Her voice flowing softly over cinnamon lips,
So sweetly deafening.

I feel the crimson fall from my ears.

Fingertips across my skin,
My heart strikes blows at my chest.

An attack is sure to come.

She looks up at me under her curls,
Dimples crease at the edges of an ivory smile.

She leans her body against mine,
Reaching up her hands around my face.

She kisses me.

I feel the world rush in,
She holds me as i fall.

This woman is different than the others.

Shes mine,
And only mine.

She is.....my Queen of Death.

-Atlantic

 

 

  • Author: Atlantic (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: September 9th, 2016 11:31
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 11
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry and subscribe to My Poetic Side ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors Weekly news

Comments2

  • Jeff

    Great write here...very well written

  • Tony36

    Great write



To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.