Alone in the solitude, she wept;
For her, Love was a mere delusion;
Silent sobs gnawing at her heart;
All turning deaf;
All turning blind;
Smithereens of a broken heart,
Imploring cohesion;
They claimed to love her;
Then, why eclipsed remained the
Injured core;
In the empty smiles,
She tried to content;
Her fortitude belied her;
The mirror mocked at her;
Her existence ceased within her;
Her lips quivering in complaint;
Her eyes shimmering;
In an ocean of unshed tears
immured in her;
Tears were not just tears;
But beads of cold, frozen blood
A bottle of devouring pills on the table
Asking the final courage;
The prelude to a fatal collapse…
Author notes
Written July 4th, 2004
A contest entry
- I Cry For Many Things... by with-torn-wings.
300 points, ended July 7, 2004, 17 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
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Inspiring
I am a sad man after reading.The poet has great command over the language.It is not easy to separate emotions and use a different word to identify each.There is a current of depression running through.That life is indeed sad and that death relieves all pain comes through.There is however a sense of detachment and its like viewing grief from the gallery. -
great job! i have written suicide poems before. but yours fas surpasses the standards of mine. great write keep it up!
..nikki.. -
Thanks.
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Suicide poem. My favorite type. Lol. Not really. I like all kinds from suicide to self harm to lost love. This is good. Good luck and thanks for entering!
~Chaylee*Nicole~
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