A dagger to the heart
Regret forged into its jagged edge
Lodged deep in the chambers
Sorrow seeping with each aching beat.
The fault lies only in the hand that dared plunge the blade.
An act of passion,
A cry of inexplicable pain.
The look of disbelief,
The shadow of guilt, of relief.
Therein lies the heartbreak of a love lost.
As the last tendrils of vitality lose their reign,
In death there is triumph
And disdain.
What sweet sorrow did he bring.