Saturday, December 22, 2012

The Sound of Sorrow

A piercing coldness--
Starting in the core of one's being
Rippling through scattered veins
Escaping clammy fingertips

Forever etched in the minds
Of those who hear, see, smell and feel
The inescapable dread,
Which drains one of color

Those pieces of a heart ripped out
 Leaving a consuming black hole
Strangling ones insides,
Filling the throat, and stealing the breath

Tears betray pain,
With such a quiet incision of the soul
All leaving one to beg the question, why?

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