Into the room comes Love approaching She does not walk, she glides And I cannot help from seeing Her hands held at her sides Her right hand holds a rose (to greet me?) And as my arms extend, I see her left hand holds a knife (to kill me?) Have I met Love or met The End? She speaks to me with sweetest breath: I wish you could be saved, the knife indeed is for your death, The rose is for your grave.
Reason for writing:
I wrote this the night my last gf dumped me because she loved someone else. I figured it expressed how I felt seduced by Love and then stabbed in the back.
Birth sign: Not entered
You need to log in to edit this poem if it is yours.
View more poems by Tim, Sagitarius.