A shard of vintage hope
Stained with no scope
Painted for an antique emotion
Which was drowning in a deep ocean
Woefully against all of my notion
On the edge of a chasmic cliff
A forlorn shade of my soul, stands stiff--
She stares down in the fathomless abyss
Not fearing the abysmal crisis
In which, she will plunge in a gorge of vices
Flames dance and flicker towards her heart
And, breaking the iron-wrought cage apart
Alas! To only find a ghastly grim cavern
Engirdled between lungs and ribs,
Her once-alive heart--was torn to shreds
All whilst, a monster gently caressed
Towards the harrowing path of an eternal rest
Aug 26, 2024
Aug 26, 2024 at 9:56 AM UTC
A shard of vintage hope
Stained with no scope
Painted for an antique emotion
Which was drowning in a deep ocean
Woefully against all of my notion
On the edge of a chasmic cliff
A forlorn shade of my soul, stands stiff--
She stares down in the fathomless abyss
Not fearing the abysmal crisis
In which, she will plunge in a gorge of vices
Flames dance and flicker towards her heart
And, breaking the iron-wrought cage apart
Alas! To only find a ghastly grim cavern
Engirdled between lungs and ribs,
Her once-alive heart--was torn to shreds
All whilst, a monster gently caressed
Towards the harrowing path of an eternal rest
I wrote this poem after a friend of mine had came out as aromantic. The speaker had once fallen in love but betrayal had hit her so hard that the feeling of love was taken away from her--with her first love.
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