Our Love

The gods shed those saline tears
wash my wounds and rinse away fears.
thunderbolts rip through my chest
destroying my heart and all the rest,
a gaping hole rotting in from out.
Leaving nothing else to doubt;
Our love to you was not able
to survive and all I saw was a fable.
ordinary
extraordinary.

by Heath Harrington

Other poems of HARRINGTON (16)

Comments (3)

nicely penned ++10 regards anju
great one, read soem of mine maybe you'll like them!
fine penned verses...great...