With this blade upon my skin,
I draw it 'cross to release what's in,
My blood is red as dark as night,
And from my veins it now takes flight.
The bloodstained blade drops to the floor,
I know i will soon be no more,
And in this thought i now see clear,
As my end grows ever near.
Upon this puddle of my blood,
I lay down as thoughts do flood,
With no fear left i do not cry,
For I am free'd now as i die.
Long ago we both vow to be true,
I promised to love and obey you,
But like my skin your words have broken,
For your love for me is left unspoken.
Author notes
I hope you like this poem. It isn't a personal story, rather one that i think has happened a few times.
I hope everybody understands the story if not just ask.
Good Luck Judging your contest.
XxX
A contest entry
- Love is the slowest form of suicide... by Yours-To-Have.
500 points, ended March 22, 2007, 79 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
I liked this poem, and I understood the feeling and the story behind it. Good Job.

