Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Narvré Sep 2015
The thick in my throat sicked by ash and Mary, teardrops and slurry
Burnt fickle flutters to another bash for my little dreary head to bury
Want hinder my teared touch to sunder our broke torch searing my heart
Blink twice for the top of your nave may fly away to take trickle part
I wasn't to know before you could bow out your prickled ideas and flight
But the bright crown that aloud my head to bow under bunting weight; it was
Cleft in two, my head lift and adrift my eyes could see you under the bright
My gaze reassessed and my mind a blister, writhing admission, I felt over and through
but still I couldn't resist her

— The End —