Her words cut
like knifes
each syllable
painted now in
hindsight's hue.

Of what's been
lost, in blood
and tears,
I write
this, my last
goodbye.

Words that
she said
deeply pierce
my soul.

A symphony
of pain,
leaving wounds
that never heal,
leaving scars that
still remain.

Here I write
a final verse,
a silent plea
in ink and tears
to let me go
and set me free.

In these lines
Although hard
to write
I must find
my peace and heal
my plight.

Yes, here I stand,
resilient,
with ink-stained
hands and heart,
I write with
pain and sorrow
it's time for
us to part.

Although,
these lines
may make me feel
somewhat worse
I find solace
In the freedom
of my own verse.

In the mist of
shattered dreams,
I pen
this final poem
A requiem
for what once was
before we lost
the joy.