The day was dark and cold and rainy,
And nothing could be found to say.
The sky was empty, black and cloudy,
And the world awash with grey.
The road was long and strange and muddy,
As she trod alone the tangled path.
The sky remained so cold and dreary,
The rain composed of rage and wrath.
Tremendous was the storm that came,
Lashing hard with water-whips.
The cold came greater with the torment
As ice-drops down her white cheeks drip.
Soaked and sodden her dress becomes,
Freezing to skin, ice and alabaster.
She tries to hasten, hasten forward,
To escape her life, now faster, faster.
She trips upon the stone-filled road,
And falls softly down to the muddy ground.
Clutching at the weightless air,
Her dead eyes slowly roll around.
White and blank, expressionless,
Cool and empty pools of cream,
Her eyes are first to lose their breath,
And succumb with slightest gleam.
Lifeless now with no more burden,
She lays out on the muddy road.
The storm continues on around her,
And beneath her, earth corrodes.
Empty sky and crumbling earth
Together make a sorry sight,
But she cannot see the sadness,
Her eyes are cold and dead and white.
©The Wild Poesy, 2012-2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.