My Last Beloved




My Last Beloved










When I saw you there, wind rustled leaves,
blowing over you, your beautiful face,
forever paled white, your breath last taken,
I wanted to lay my head upon your breast;
listen for life, praying it had not taken it’s leave.

I wanted to hear something, if nothing
less, hope that death, you may have cheated.
But your lips now cracked, kissed their last,
in death’s embrace, not even a whisper would
I hear, instead a slow trickle of blood had
begun to flow translucent over your mask
of fear.

Holding your cold hands in mine, I was weak,
from trembling, as a light rain started to trickle,
drops fell upon your once rosy cheeks, I wept,
knowing my life was dying there with you.

I cursed the heavens, I swore at death itself,
delicately wrapping you in my arms, I kissed
your cheek and thrust my dagger deep into
myself, freeing my blood to flow onto yours,
we slept together as mortals without disgrace.
released and bound to another place.


© Copyright Vincent Moore. All Rights Reserved

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