Fall

Within the woods his voice in darkness wails
He, an emperor of the throne, grieves for
His wilted life.
A gift of madness he is; a scab upon the Earth.
No one looks to him anymore.

Black hair flowing melancholy with black robes
He stalks where she lies still.
Poisoned by his shuddering heart
He sleeps no more,
Muttering listless atrocities for
Only the trees to hear.

Years and kingdoms fall
Yet there beside her he waits.
The cold branches bow above them
Giving solace in place of eternal scars.

Reviews

[Victoria PoetryBunny]

Great work, nice descriptions.

[Hatchling]

Beautiful poem. I love the flow of it. Keep up the great work