Dark Poetry ~ The Everlasting Purgatory of a Soul’s Gentle Tune

I now feel the clay beneath my fingers;
looking around at the gazing strangers.

I cry my tears.
Splashing down.
Rippling waters.

Creating mirrors from my mind.
Her face in time.

Clawing dirt.
I want her again.

In aquatic world frail body lost its oxygen.
Still, I found no release.
Now, my delicate love has joined the deceased.

She left that warm summer’s night.
Not a fear nor a care.
She… encompassed with joy and delight.

If only for a moment.
A glimmer in time…

Now you know the story;
tell no one my crime.