Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
My heart was promised long ago
To a man known not by me
When I was young and he was old
and I not his Anabel Lee

I forsaken
on this path untaken
bound to wander
and Never be Free

Of the Grip I feel,
of a man who can only be half real,
to the Likes of Me.

Wherever he lay,
Deeply I pray,
He May never know of Me.

While I dream of day
And hear God say,
A Blessing and a Curse unto
Thee

To love with a love
that is more than love,
but never be allowed to utter
the treasured "we".

Glimpses of faces
Leaving the bitterest Traces
To mock and taunt the waking of me.

Searching For
the Wide Open Door
of a Home with
No Vacancy

Winter's Cold
and Summer's Scauld
Are no strangers to me.

The days drag on,
knowing this bitter song,
plays on, endlessly.

I wait for the sleep,
with a lover's cold creep,
to kiss my lips,
grab my fingertips,
and Squelch the Promise Sworn Not By Me

For I know not how long,
I can have courage and be strong
Knowing I'm not anyone's Anabel Lee

— The End —