Her Dying

I kissed her lips in her dying breath,
her skin so pale, her soul feeling the tight grip of death.
Sorrow wielded its power on me as I beheld such a saddened scene,
that made my horizon overcast,
and filled my clouds with thousands of tears,
and the whole scenario became somewhat macabre.
I held her cold hand and felt her grp,
letting me know that there was nothing amiss,
that it was the way it should be,
yet my selfish heart would not let her go,
and her soft face so impassive,
nestled a hope of reuniting our hearts once more.
I took heed of her desire to throw off all earthly bonds,
her urge to set free her soul,
and in a estate of being invaded by misery and mourn,
I gave in and let her go.
My skies darkened in sorrowful weeping,
as I realised she was no more breathing,
I kissed her again, trying to wake her heart, but all was in vain,
and bathed in dismay that filled me,
I proclaim my pain, and closed her eyes,
and since then my souls has endlessly cried in miserability and pain.

RQ
Moscow
26/5/10
00:22