March 16, 2012
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Cold Rhymes
He has taken my art, my poetry
by breaking my heart,
leaving me bereft,
so lonely.
Truth: beauty hurts more than bitterness
like a shivering maiden in winter's dress.
Death's sapphire, those azure lips,
pale and frosted in numbness,
curve smilelessly. Stretching, they rip.
He who sees pain beneath her bloodless skin
sees beauty exposed by her satin trim.
Comments (3)
I am sure better days, and happier times are coming your way soon.
Truth: beauty hurts more than bitterness
like a shivering maiden in winter's dress.
Man those are awesome lines. The whole poem is very good. It's hard to do rhyme well, but you did. I am sorry if the broken heart is real and immediate though.
Holy. Fuck.
"Truth: beauty hurts more than bitterness." I adore that line
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