Tuesday, 15 March 2011


The feeling could not be released,
a tearing, pulling that never ceased.
and inside lay a captive scream,
closing her eyes, she dares to dream
of summer nights and days gone by;
carefree, happy, joyful and high,
on life that has now escaped her grasp,
like a strand of hair slips from a clasp.

Tumbling down her shoulders, those vines,
those locks of beauty set in lines,
hold the embers of that summer day,
that now feels so very far away.
They fade with every tug and pat,
leaving the canvas dull and flat.
Her beauty that was meant to be,
has been stolen by the sea.

Those eyes that should be gazed upon,
so warm and sparkling like a fawn,
have lost that flare, that warmth, that good,
and now lay empty, hard like wood.
No batting of those woeful eyes,
would make one see or realise,
that what was buring, that flame so bright,
has faded deep into the night.

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