Poetry

LOST IN BETWEEN DAWNS

…I thought ’tis one of the odd days of love
Where the curls of your hair will walk away from me,
And still, respond with a wink.
Where dashing for the doorknob
Was just a way you expressed anger and disgust—
It wasn’t.

At least, it could’ve been voiced—this breakup,
Or probably said over lunch,
But it came with a beep—
A text laced with thorny swords—
A text as deadly as a serpent’s venom—
A text, midget-like, but full of pain.
It whispered it’s over,
For another sits on the heart’s throne.

At that moment…

I’m still lost in between dawns

©TurksonQuills, 2021.

Poetry

WAILING QUILL

Have you ever seen words

That pierce the heart like arrows,

Or a nest inhabiting not birds,

But a crowd of bedfellows?

Maybe, just maybe a yes.

I met her on the sunshine of March.

Perhaps shining, but she was an angel of mess.

She seemed a perfect match

With glows of the august colours of petals.

Her aura defined betrayal’s serenity,

For her beauty portrayed meaning of lethal

Outlining its sin to love’s eternity.

She made my heart bleed

the inks of a wailing quill

© TurksonQuills

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