Last Night A Murder Occurred

Last Night A Murder Occurred 
When We Met Under The Moon,
She Took To Many Thorns Within
She Could Not Face These Truths
So Today When I Awoke
She Slept In
And The Morning Was More Silent Than It Usually Is
Last Night She Killed A Part Of Me
Today, She Writes My Eulogy
She Was Weak
She Cried For Days
And Asked Please- For Me To Take Her Pain.
For She Laid Down And Got Up Slow
Only Poison Had She To Fight
The Weariness Of May’s Melancholic Nights
For Three Days She Wasted In The Fields
She Went In
And She Went Out
Her Glossy Eyes
Grew Dimmer, Still
Her Gentle Touch Faded From Me
For Too Much Was It To Bear
The Weight Of Death Upon Her Flaxen Hair
And As The World Around Her Cried
And As She Looked At Angels’ Eyes
Too Much Grief For Those She Yearned
She Lost Her Strength To Carry On
No More To Fight
No More To Cry
She Asked For Me To End Her Life.
So, Instead, I Put Her Into Sleep
Whether She Should Wake
Remains The Mystic’s Metered Mystery
When Self Lay Too Weak
No Longer Stands
The Words From Her Mouth Beg To Fade
And So Thus The Pen
Taken O’er With Pity
Accused To Write Her Misery
To Write Lovely Words And
To Commemorate Her Sordid Plight
Last Night She Killed A Part Of Her
That The Light Should Fall From Her Eyes
Her Blush Pink Cheeks Now The Crimson Tide
She Woke In A Body She Did No Longer Know
No Longer Weak
But Sleepy Still
This New Her
Is Silent In Her Memory
The Rhymes, Songs, And Odes
This New She
That Will Not Speak
Hides Her Tears
Within Hide
Shows Not Her Softness,
Nor Her Eyes
Hides The Girl
Asleep For Years
Too Sweet The Girl Dragged On The Floor
Too Sweet The Girl
They Tossed Apart
She Cried To The Heavens In Her Pain
Too Much Death
Too Many Days Of Nights She Wept
Her Strength Faded
But Not Her Grief
She Kept Walking On And On
And She Said That She Would End Her Life
What Else Could Be Done?
But Put Her To Sleep
The Pills Meant For Eternity
Yes, Last Night A Murder Of Herself
Last Night
For Mercy
And Now Silent She
Lives On
Not Quite The Same As When She Begun.
When Everyone Was Dying That She Loved And Held So Close
When She, Too Soft For Tears
Grew Fire In Her Soul
And The Fire Burnt Her Hands
And She Could Not Stand The Flames
And Asked For Cords To Cut
To Play The Fates
And End Her Ache
Instead, The Heavens Pitied Her And Changed Her Form
And Resurrected The Most Substantial Part Of Her
Some Other Self
Whom She Was Never Meant To Be
And The Worlds Where Wallowed Deep Within
Only A Pen To Conjure Them From Therein
And She Squeezed This Foreign Hand Her Own And Told Some Phantom Ghost
Please Don’t Grow Too Bitter
And Fire Only Be
Keep The Pain Inside
And The Fire Is Breathed
Let It Burn
But Still Love Deep
For She Resurrected A Stronger Part Of The Spirit
No More To Hurt
No More To Cry
She Won't Lie Down
She Will Not Dilute this Pain With Drugs
Bloody Nails And Blackened Veins
But Though She Killed Her
The Sinner Sweet She Held
And That Was The Last Time That Wailed The Pitiful Spirit
For She Holds Fast To Her Own Memory
The Girl That Died In Quarantine
From Too Much Rain.
I Go On To Sing Her Songs
Amid Her Death.
The Musician Died
The Physician Lives
And Writes The Scripts Of Medicine
Euthanized For Benevolence.
Re-Learning How To Be Again
Relearning How To Live

Published by Silent Singer

The Silent Singer

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