Destitute

 

The ruins, they run deep

Like hollowed caverns

That still echo- anguish

Faintly in cold whispers

On the cusp of hearing

Tauntingly to the mind

Like extra dark shadows

That follow you behind

Hair on your neck, spiked

Notice of dropped temps

Heighten every step forth

Yes, these are the places

Where love once flowed

With the warmth of love

Before you abandoned it

As our own lover eclipse

For all the world to see

To softly gasp and envy

Now, no one even cares

In coming out to venture

To visit the state of…my heart

 

Poet of the Light © 2019

5 thoughts on “Destitute

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