A little to late

A broken heart try’s to mend with the arrow tip stuck in deep

How the steps of the soul are weakened in our aftermath

He struggles to understand the gravity of his heart felt pain

Argues with the decending stars that she still remains his moon even as clouds are heavy on the mind.

For without her he is nothing his emotions wax’s and wane’s as he takes another sip

Oh to be as brittle as the brokenhearted be, withered petals grasping the stem of memories...

Haunted.

He looks into the distance stuck in a stare of everlasting sorrow as he knows his time is near.

Defeat settling in tired bones, tears cracking the fragility of the flesh and bone of spirit.

He puts the muzzle to his head aching deep inside his love lost in vain...

The trigger pulling on pains silence the bullet screamed her name.

Click a single tear drop falls to its fate as his is in the reaper’s hands now.

Now she remembers him.... too little too late to unseal the bloodied hand of fate.

Love twisted memories gives her one last guilt before she closes the door of the past

All she left of him empty bottles... severed promises.

As she closes her eyes all that is left of him is a fragment of shattered "what ifs?"