|
A touch of blood, touches
skin. Again her anguish grows
for one who swore to look
within, his promises now old.
An open hand. A hardened fist.
The only touch he gives. The
wounds he leaves, within,
without, provide her will
to live. An inner well, artesian
strength, flows fresh untouched
by sin. Her tears become
a battle cry, a sign that she
shall win. Strength to leave has come
too late to take a bloodless
flight. Her path exposed,
expressed in fear, brings
crying in the night. A
lifeless lover lay before her
drained of blood and might. To
her relief through passion’s crime,
a deadly passing rite.
|
i'm in agreement--stunning first draft! i wouldn't change a thing
(((HUGS))) and love, karla. :)
Methinks you don't need to work it much...this is outstanding the way it is.
galvanizes the passion of darkness with a sense of perspective ...
I can't comment on the content. My ex may bring up the "Bravo!" as evidence in court or something. :-O ;-) Oh, I'd never take that route. I believe in alimony.
"Strength has come to late to take a bloodless flight".
In soul? In the physical form? Both are too much! Great insight to the way it really is, not to many really know.
Rhonda
I was lost in the genius of this composition.
A painful truth, expressed beautifully, Lori.
Carmen :-)
Love Tinka
Unnerving and gripping style...Lori
Peter
Felt I wish it was not excellent....
LP
Superb Lori.......
the rhyme too.
Just a thought I think the
line breaks impede the flow.