Her hand lay against the window pane
as she watched the sound of pouring rain,
remembering her hand out the window, floating through air,
the sun in her eyes and the wind in her hair;
Months defined by traffic lights,
sunrises on the beach and sleepless nights.
She was blissfully ignorant to the imminent danger,
numb to the soft steps of an approaching stranger.
Looking back it was indeed a sin,
the effortless way the knife plunged in
then out, and so the blood ran down,
trickling slowly on the ground.
It pooled and she grew short of breath,
with summer’s end came her death.
And so, light faded with one last soft sigh,
along with her the memories die.
Author notes
About the best and worst summer of my life.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
beautiful
i think he way u put real life with a tragic ending is pure simplicity. for one to think so dep into a cascading thought such as this, then u are a true master of life. good job
Adding your comment:
