deepundergroundpoetry.com
Waiting for this Death
I do not feel you anymore.
Your thoughts are as distant
As the strange, eccentric shafts
Of moonlight.
Your touch no longer
Animates my soul
But rather, seems foreign
And fragile; lackluster incantations.
I wait for you in an empty room
With empty expectations.
I wait for you
With a death bell clutched between my fingers
Furtively waiting
To ring in the death
Of this affair.
Your thoughts are as distant
As the strange, eccentric shafts
Of moonlight.
Your touch no longer
Animates my soul
But rather, seems foreign
And fragile; lackluster incantations.
I wait for you in an empty room
With empty expectations.
I wait for you
With a death bell clutched between my fingers
Furtively waiting
To ring in the death
Of this affair.
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