Into a dark cave, I surround myself
Into a well of devilry rest, I drown my cells
As the lids blink away the light compelled
Just as the hand strikes twelve
Surrender blindfolds me into a realm
Of darkness and crooked knife sharp shells
A memory of him loops around like a sylph
Trapped in this foreign homeland like in a spell
The wound in my heart swells
As the gruesome scene in my rest overwhelms
My heart and thoughts to the rim
I see blood and nothing else
As I hold him in my hand and cry for help
Pulling him to my knees as I knelt
On the blood covered floor I held
Myself from killing myself
Joining him in the afterlife I felt
As asking for him again and in good health
Was impossible for the life we upheld
Waking up startled of sights I beheld
Fearing the next, as the past's horrors take hold.
- Ola El.
A poem that touches the feeling of inner-torment of losing a loved one.