
.
Cold and wet
Tired and exhausted,
She lay
Hanging on for
Dear life
In the ruins
Of their battlefield
Bed…
Her once King,
Her once kingdom
Torn, destroyed
And now long
Gone.
The violent silence
Making her feel
That her very flesh
Is getting ripped
Like a peel…
Slowly agonizing,
She looks Death
In the eyes,
Begging for yet
Another breath
Refusing to say
Goodbye…
.
.
In response to Fandango’s Fandango’s Story Starter.
Stark and powerful.
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Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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