The little waif checks her image in the mirror a little nervously
She starts walking up the rickety stairs slowly, softly, surreptitiously!
As the wooden floor creaks underneath her light weight,high heels.
She rings the door bell, and so sets into motion fortune's wheels.
The long awaited moment has come at last,when she shall be freed.
A nice little bargain she had struck with the man who had the greed.
The greed for flesh and lust for love entwined.
With no wedding vows nor promises of undying love.
He kissed her lips for he hadn't had enough,then made love.
Gnawing at her slim wrists with a slimmer blade.
Joyous Blood oozed out as turbulent Life began to fade.
She had dreamt of dreams in an unseen heaven,
He found in her lovely corpse his secure haven.
And as her breaths started slowly fading away.
She gave him a white rose for peace to light his way.
He dipped it in her red making it more priceless than a ruby.
She kissed his lips a final time and smiled like a white lily.
He closed her eyes and stuck it in his pocket nonchalantly.

[PS: Nothing personal...Just musings on a random evening]



very luscious

trion ninja said...

i just happened to chance upong your blog. This is a deadly poem. Forced to comment, as i had to come back to it 3 times now after attempting to resume my work. ghastly, brutally sad,
frightful for a dreamers mind,
even though a random musing,
suspending my disbilief willingly,
it makes me think,
why did she choose such a horrid death,
she here may refer to the person not,
can be a feeling, a wish, or a thought,
Can unrequitted feelings be so strong?
what sorrow or hurt can drive her so wrong?
i choose to not believe what you say,
I will not accept she is dead.
That bastard will never kill her, not this way.

A Poetess said...

@pinks-thanks for the lovely compliment
@trion ninja: well for me when i wrote this bit, i didn't consider it to be a horrid death as such for her..(which is by the way me, mostly all females are me in the 3rd person perspective)...the poem is a symbology of sacrifices of love..its a choice she is making and doing so joyfully...a mature adult who is willingly destroying herself knowing that this and nothing else will give her the ecstasy of life..it would of course have been better if he was not nonchalant about it & appreciated her but it was not to be so...
that is worse than dying so she chooses death...and offering pleasure to the human in the way he enjoys it, not in the way she wants it to be..its a bit complicated, but i hope i was able to get my point across.thanks for ur insightful comments BTW.

trion ninja said...

Point taken. This just reminds me of a song wait for sleep. although not connected to the poem or theme directly, but indirectly.
you have a very nice talent. keep it up.

A Poetess said...

thanks. i will search up the song you have been talking about here.