Three of swords
Immortal heart ache.
Three of swords
Who knew a heart could bleed
I did
Yes me, with the broken heart.
It’s a shame I Have to feel
Have to fall in love
Give them that organ
That belongs in my chest
Give to them my final dying breath
As my smoke crafted fantasy collapses
Each glass brick dissipating like dry ice
Now I am frozen
I guess these retrograde blessings had to come to an end
And this this blood moon magic cease
Returning me to my sullen grief
Still, I Lay here now
A shattered relief
Glass scattered, each peace
Finding its way to my heart
I’m only amazed it still beats.
About the Creator
Empty Poetry and Verse
Empty and Endless The Heart Of a Poet.
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By Tricia Vivienne Blancabout 23 hours ago in Fiction
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