Today bears the weight of erstwhile trepidation.
Uncertainties exhumed only to be hung up as ominous flags.
Black as night my widowed heart paraded through the procession.
Garbed in ash encrusted, sequinned frock, hemmed train all tattered in rags.

Herald the face with no features yet obscured behind a chiffon veil.
In hands, a bouquet of black roses, worm-eaten to the stems.
The mourning sun only gave the weakest glow,
feeble attempt to rejuvenate all that is stale;
to imbue the shimmer back into forsaken jewels and dulled gems.

Her entourage kept up with heavy feet; all grim and sullen.
Also faceless... Armed with pitchforks and torches.
Today they will draw much; having thirst for crimson.
Today they witness her death as the black parade marches.

A ring is round
and has no end.
It has no sharp edges.
Nor will it bend.
Love is precious.
It has no limit.
You can reach the top.
And still can't beat it.
Your high is your addiction.
Feeling so confused.
Is it real or is it fiction.
Can you handle my
love affection.
Your heart feels my
soul connection.

Do you even know I exist.
In dark shimmering night.
Are you able to resist.
Words of love and happiness.
Feeling amazingly intensively.
Your mind in curiosity.
Wants to know more
of how it could be.
Biting your lip softly.
Caressing your soul gently.
What I really want you to see.
Is the beauty inside of you.
A sparkle through marbles.
Let it shine through eternity.
Just some thoughts
of a girl you don't really see.
Only words you read
in her poetry.