Life Loves Naught!
-Mercy K. Khaute
On the table, by her bedside
A candle dimly flickers and burns.
Anytime now her tears would melt
Frozen in time by memories ago.
Motionless and cold she lays on the bed-
None to admire her feminity and grace
Naked and bare- the flesh now pale,
Her bosom and curves once many had loved!
Her shadow on the wall is all for a friend
And guide that stays along,
Lonely bitter winter wind
Gushes aloud outside her door.
The beat of her heart- heavy and raw.
The room that once echoed with giggles and chuckles,
Picture perfect had hanged in the wooden frames on the wall.
Now all is empty, colorless, dusty and old.
Motionless and still she lays on the bed
Her emotions and thoughts no longer haggle.
Nor, sweat upon the brows that age had wrinkled.
She has indeed been a fighter on her own- all alone.
The winter’s presence is deafeningly loud.
Brooding over her pain at night.
For, in the cold dark night the itching starts;
To scratch her wounds that bleeds afresh.
Motionless and still she really is quite.
The Owls, all in their shelter secured.
The night slips and dawn descends
The candle burns out and so does her soul.
The end did come by- swiftly…daintily…silently… and lonely!!