Three years.
Filed under : Fiction
His eyes glistened in the wake of a dying passion,
As her eyes of black turned grey.
In the shade of there discontent,
Black tears rained.
His voice echoed a silence,
Her mute words ended their conflict.
There was never love from their start.
Only accounted mishaps and physical lust.
Their poignant ending.
Both lives could have been better.
They simply grew old and apart.
I was just a bystander,
to there August morning.
I sipped my warm coffee and bit into a tasteless croissant.
If you were at this scene,
You would watch as I painted there ending words
Into vivid pictures.
I drew there distance with wrinkles
I colored it cold with broken pencils.
To there memoir,
Signed and dated
An August of 08.
KTDP said,
July 13, 2008 @ 5:36 pm
very well written
Rawr said,
July 14, 2008 @ 3:18 pm
:'(
your battlefield said,
July 16, 2008 @ 6:25 am
KDTP:
thank you. (welcome to my blog)
love to see new faces.
Rawr:
;'(
i know.