the End of a Love Song


Death patted the worn leather couch.

Placed in frigid temperatures…the seat seemed to come from 1970…or there about.

He did not offer a love song.

Though in his icy stare…100_1336

it had been apparent to see the End wished for me to stay.

His movement so flawed, so free, like a cold sweat on a summer’s day.

If I could only pass Death by…

There would be no need to ask why.

Positioned knee to knee…

‘should I stay or should I go.’

With a chance glance to smoke from a January sky…

I turned back and Death had gone.

Leaving me with only lyrics to a love song.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.