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Dec 2018
They come in gold and silver,
Twinkling lights, gem-filled eyes
Of diamonds and critines,
Dotting this night scene with life.

I don't know where they'll go,
But with each pair passing,
Time went so, so slow.

Stones against my bloodied feet,
Cutting at these pulsating streams.
Tarmac, tar black
Laced with that sacred red.

I don't know how much further I can go,
The shards only dig deeper,
The lights are losing their glow.

They left with stains of crimson,
Apathetic silhouettes slinking in the night,
In a trail of shattered garnets,
Past the corpse of death's bride.
Some are left behind.
Bernice Helena
Written by
Bernice Helena  20/F/Singapore
(20/F/Singapore)   
751
   Graff1980
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