Monday, 6 September 2010

The empty side of our Bed

most nights i lie
next to the mold
of your corpse
on the empty side
of our nest
the place where we
displayed our love
once loved
twice departed
lonely winter nights
boiling summer lights
i dream of you
back in your rightful
like a pawn
on a chessboard
i wait for your
next move

lost in nostalgia
i awake
that split second of bliss
where i forget to remember
then i am back to my future
far from our past
reminiscing the last
clutch of warmth
the last print of soul
on that empty side

this is an original poem by theladybyron, its about the night my aunt died and that i lost my faith


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