Ashen dread imbues decay;
A simple cloth conceals the skin
An unseen scar lurking within
Something gained from nothing
A smile, a gaze, or something;
Because even in clothes he’s worn
Her heart is still forlorn
Is her love to truly be?
Or shall she never be free?
And in that simple moment she will stutter
And perhaps quite possibly mutter
Her feelings, her fright, and her words
To all the foreign, fretful birds
Chase her mind and rip her heart
“Please do not ever depart,”
Her moment is here
His heartbeat near,
Yet cotton threads decay
Each moment she stays.
Image Sourced from Pixabay - and it is an amazing one, too!
