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The Death of Love
All she wanted was love, but he
forgot the dreamy days of yore.
Gone were those sweet caresses,
Gone were the walks hand in hand,
Gone was any passionate lovemaking.
All sentiment evaporated into bank accounts,
and soon he found others interested
in spending his hard-earned money.
She stayed at home, sad, lonely and crying.
She dared not find solace anywhere.
Until one day he returned...drunk.
He took his pleasure in using force
and killed her fragile body and soul.
She walked towards the beckoning sea,
and walked and walked blindly,
though she could not swim.
Behind her, she left a short note:
No one cries beneath the brine,
which cannot wash away your filthy attempt.
The seed of love was now
definitely despairingly dead.
NB This is part truth, part fiction. And has got nothing to do with my life. I was a mere spectator of life. I was in a way sad that the man ruined such a love because of money. Such a brutal man never learns it seems.
Copyright ©
Buhagiar Victor
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