Wallow
Send all your men,
I surrender,
I will not say 'don't shoot',
For what's gone is gone,
The battle is lost.
Yet whilst my hollow frame,
Aches and yearns,
This world still turns.
So don't seek reason,
Don't ask why,
Drown in loss.
What's gone is gone.
Copyright © Isabella Seccombe | Year Posted 2010
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