These slanted lines of
the decayed love,
make one final cry
before the final death.
As these crooked lines,
move backwards;
they first wriggle,
and then die a slow death.
Leaving no pain, but mouldy
ashes of unspoken words.
Greenish speckled spots,
imposed on the last
love lines.
.
Beautifully written sad poem.
Thanks Dracula,for your kind words and appreciation.
This is a very well spun web my dear, nice!
great 👍👍
Thanks for reading and commenting. Appreciate it 🙂
🤗🤗