She alone stand there in wake and sorrow,
listing through the memories of her past.
Trapped within an ongoing memory,
it seems that this will forever last.
She just cannot seem to find him,
searching without any signs to see.
She cannot seem to stand it,
there seemed no way to be free.
Even though all had seemed lost to her,
and finally one day he came by.
He left her a bouquet or roses,
on the site where she had died.
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I figured for once I would write a poem or short story or something, mostly because I read too many books in the past few days and well, about time I show off some of my crappy art in the form of words. I can't wait to show off more.
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