Pity Her
Pity her, the little lost girl
Naught but a child, stranded by love
Marooned on an island of her own devastation
Look at her, how confused she seems,
The loneliness staring from her hollow eyes
See the silent workings of her mouth,
Her lips murmuring words of longing and recrimination
Observe, how her gaze searches the horizon,
Flitting like a bird, her tear-wet eyes
Trapped always in flight,
Unable to alight, unable to find the purchase she needs –
The figure of her lost love
He is dark to her now, nothing but a shadow
Receding on the cruel horizon
And she is no longer exulted, no longer adored
Sunlight shuns her, happiness leaches from her bones
Leaving bitterness at the marrow
She is dwindling into ashes, fading to black
He has forsaken her, as they all do, one day or another
He has drained her like a leech, she has nothing left to give
Nothing but the stubborn love that clings like an imp,
A thousand tiny black pixies swinging from her hair
Pinching her in her sleep
Goading her into hell fire and damnation
Singing odes to suicide, to the quiet hollow peace of
Oblivion
Where maybe he waits for her, that old smile back on his lips
And firelight dancing in his silky black hair…
Copyright © Amy Van De Casteele | Year Posted 2009
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