poetry · Writing

Scorn

gravestone.jpgTeardrops Stain,

Blood runs cold,

Heartbeats pain,

Never grow old.

The warmest cover,

The softest embrace,

Separated from my lover,

By His fall from grace.

Flash of pain,

Temper from within,

Loss of what I gain,

For his life of sin.

Helen x

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2 thoughts on “Scorn

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