Kind of makes me tear up

I’ve been going through old backups and have found a lot of poetry that I’ve written.  I know what this one was about to me but I never gave it a name.  If you have one you think would be good, leave it in the comments and thanks for reading.

darkness-1232724_640Unnamed circa 2005
by Lacy Sereduk

She sits alone in her quiet room
Away from all the torment
She sits and broods and wastes away
With blood her only adornment

Silence is her only speech
That never ever flows
And when the time finally wastes away
She’ll be the only one who knows

So many tears down rapidly fall
To wash away the sins
With moonlights deathly call
The end of time begins

No love once lost nor love regained
Can ease a tortured soul
No happiness or pity brings
Rest to hearts of coal

Once fire lit and love put out
has turned to cindered rock
Covered in dust of misuse and lust
No spark can now unlock

In mired heaps of bloodied skin
This rag of flesh still sits
Upon the bones of loves once passed
And treamors in hateful fits

In sleep she calls for lovers hand
But no voice is e’er returned
All alone she faced the past
And inside out she burned

With hate garnished tongue she calls
and curses the bastard massess
But ever she hopes of her souls return
To sweep away the glasses

The shards of love and life and hope
Does she daily venture o’er
And cuts and bleeds on hands and knees
To earths good flesh she’s lowered

The cold embrace of last breaths grace
To be the first departing
A wish held deep that starts to seep
Into dawns awake’d mourning

In fetid heaps of rot and filth
A rose can once still bloom
But once diseased and called by name
The venom is it’s doom.

Such vibrant life and color lost
And all turns deathly black
“To end, To end!” the mourners call
And in the earth she’s back.

to feed on rot and acid filth
that turns her colour paler
Darker and darker she begins to fall
Her heart her only jailor

She can not grow, it will not beat.
In dark encumbered tomb
this grave that echoes on all the walls
Loneliness is lifes own womb

The squable of the chamber maggots
that fight for rotted mound
Care not for beauty, nor it’s fall
But live to eat all sound

What solice in man’s own hand
Can broken hearts find hope?
But in sleeps bosom do they crawl
Closer to a hangmans rope

The only warmth caught in the flesh
Is that of those nearby
But when the lover moves away
The icy flesh will die

And so the girl alone in death
Listens to the knoll
Turns to howl her frightful best
But silent rings her toll

Trapped in torment of living death
She hides away her heart
Until the day her dying breath
Gives leave for souls depart

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About lacysereduk

Writer, reader, video game lover, and Batman.
This entry was posted in Writings. Bookmark the permalink.

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