Dead Heart

"She's dead. And it's all my fault."

As the flashing lights and sirens grow closer,

Precious memories are frozen in time.

A young woman falls into the darkness,

As young man watches from a far.

 

He searches for a sign that she is still in the light,

He longs for her sweet kisses,

He searches for the smell of her perfume,

He’s hoping to hear her laughter one last time,

           He prays to feel her presences.

 

But he can only see darkness,

He can only taste bittersweet tears,

He can only smell the sweet smell of rain,

He can only hears the cries of anger and remorse,

He can only feel the emptiness of a void,

In his dead heart.

 

The wind starts howling,

Like a lonely wolf howling at the full moon on a cold night.

Thunder starts rolling in,

Like the steady beat of war drums.

Lighting dances in the sky,

Like the graceful dance of the Northern Lights.

 The glinting rain starts poring down,

Like a raging waterfall glinting in the sun.

 

Tears stars streaming down his face,

But are hidden by the rain.

A cry of pain escapes his throat,

But is hidden by the sound of thunder.

He looks into the darkness,

But the lighting lights up that darkness.

The rain has a sweet smell,

The cries of anger and remorse fill the air,

But he still has a dead heart.

 

He moves into the crowd,

To see her body one last time.

He sees her blood caked hair,

Wishing it would wash away in the rain.

He looks for her bright smile,

Longs for the taste of her sweet kisses,

Searches for the scent of her hair,

Hoping to hear her giggle,

Praying to feel her soft skin.

 

But all he sees is darkness,

All he tastes are bittersweet tears,

All he smells is the sweet smell of rain,

All he hears are the cries of anger and remorse,

All he feels is a void,

In his dead heart.

 

 As the light fades into the night,

And the sirens disappear into the darkness.

The young women is lost forever,

And the young man is lost in her room.

The memories hit hard,

But he fights back the tears.

 

He looks for her smiling face,

Longs for taste of her sweet kisses,

Searches for the sent of her perfume,

Hoping to hear her laughter,

Praying to feel her soft lips against his.

But all he has,

Is a dead heart.

 

He can almost see her smiling face,

But he can only see red lights flashing violently.

He can almost taste her kisses,

But he only tastes bittersweet tears.

He can almost smell her perfume,

But he can only smell blood.

He can almost hear her laughter,

But he can only hear the accusing sirens.

He can almost feel her soft lips on his,

But he only feels a void,

In his dead heart.

 

He walks outside,

Wanting to be alone.

They cried to God,

But God didn't listen.

They asked God why he turned away,

But God didn’t answer.

They didn’t understand.

God didn’t understand.

No one did.

 

‘No one knows,

But I did.

I promised not to tell,

But I should have.

It’s all my fault.

I should have said no,

And asked for help

 But I didn’t and now she’s dead.

It’s all my fault.’

 

Author's Note

This was one of my first poems and I have yet to change anything. Any and all critisism is appreciated.