POETRY

Fragment

Ice and Vice

Photo by Marcus Löfvenberg on Unsplash

I descend into the pale blue fire,
Cold so cold it burnt with love lost prior.
Fate foretold, we were flames to a match,
Alas, my castle was of straw thatched.
No foul force could rip or tear us apart,
But now I succumb to a broken heart.
The vile verses that need no rehearse,
Put my soul in limbo; a cursed hearse.

No river could hold me as I weep,
Into the pits of sin shall I seep.
The planet beholds as I come undone,
A sack of flesh and bone that all did shun.
The blade cut through the skin of mine,
Alas, this was of my design.
None could console my weeping blood vessels,
For only stains remained on cold metal.