The final stormA Poem by The_Ancient_RockA short love tragedy.There was a wild storm, and like that she was gone. For the poet's despair, the lady so fair. What could be of her? He could do nothing but wonder, as he laid his head and ponder. Was she swept by the hurricane? Gone, with the summer rain? Had she felt any pain? Sorrow drove him insane. Another life lost in vain. She could be in an old ship, that sank like Titanic. Drown and that was it. He could still feel her presence, as a way of remembrance. Haunted by the lady's ghost, who he valued the most. Gone was the love of his life, his bride and future wife. His heart wept in strife, as he held up the knive, and begun to slit his wrists, welcoming death with bloody fists. Soon he would be dead, stone cold in his bed, sheets painted red. The poet died for love, to meet the lady, above. May angels weep and carry his soul, as soon as death achieves its goal, and receives the lovers toll. It is a sad thing when love brings death, but the poet's last will we must respect.
© 2024 The_Ancient_RockAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorThe_Ancient_RockTorres Vedras, Lisbon, PortugalAboutIs there a point? Oh well... Come and find out... if you must. more..Writing
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