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Alone


A mountain range of rubble, With nothing left to give, Hides a buried body, Of he who no longer lives, A part of the mangled landscape, Mounds of concrete lay, Wondering if it's fate, That he was left here to decay, Now she stands above him, With him buried in his grave, She stands there silently crying, Mourning he who could not be saved, She looks up at the clouds, And speaks in a hushed tone, "The sky is soft and sad today, And I am here alone," Like from summer to autumn, Without him she had changed, She used a knife to free her broken heart, And took her life away.
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caitybug98

I am bipolar, I have PTSD, and I have depression. I am a suicidal hypocrite telling other people that it isn't the answer. And writing is my escape from reality. Staying Strong Always And Forever.

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