‘Harvesting A Lover’s Soul’

The silver glint the of moon in the shadowy night,

Lying in the dark grave, wishing for the sun light,

Hands of the roots reaching to get my ruined heart,

Colorless flowers rest beside, dry as a broken art,

Sobs expired long ago; trails of tear has vanished,

Mind numb, dead; purity of agony already tarnished,

Praying to let you go, wishing to stop thinking about,

I still hold you close; convincing myself it’s just for a bout.

Time killed my smile, filched the meaning behind the words,

Like the voiceless cattle, I walk the same as a ghost in hoards,

Trying to reach out to the remains of sanity, I still sadly fail,

Bleeding the remaining tears within the broken old pail,

Days, months, years had already long passed and gone,

But this killing pain, it never failed to make me groan,

Your eyes, your face, now the part of my lurid dreams,

And sleep a skill of past, washed away by fluid streams.

Today is not a promise, maybe tomorrow will be an end,

Broken heart, they always says that only time can mend,

Falling in love all over again, I can do it with ease,

Yet another heartbreak is what I don’t want to face,

Alone; I can live; and unaided don’t sound too boring,

When death still waits on every turn, blood lust soaring,

Roving with His sharp scythe, eyes so sharp, soulless and foul,

Waiting; anticipating; for the harvest of my next lover’s soul.



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