Lost Love

(photo by https://immortal-affliction.see.me/)

He walked solemnly, shuffling his feet on the dirt road. He had not the muscle to hold up his crown… down cast eyes portrayed a vision of empty thoughts. Wandering listlessly through the torrents of time. His love had long gone. As the body without a lung, no air could suffice. Every breath felt like pain. The torturous wind gently battered his cheek with the coming frost. The soles of his shoes near gone and with it the holes of  a sad journey. No morsel of food had touched his lips in a fortnight. He was near death…with only a sip of water. His cheeks sunken to shallow reflections and lines of past smiles. Now trodden to the decayed memory of the past. She haunted him… death stood by eagerly yet patient, awaiting his eternal slumber.

It seemed stillness brought more pain, yet he continued to wander. Walking, relieving the ache, lessening the burden of heart break. He remembered kissing her sallow cheek as she was taken by the fever. Her blue lace dress hung loosely at her breast, where once before was a full bosom… now a shell an empty shell; the soul departed. Her eyes closed as a single tear made its way toward her ear. She smiled lightly before the cloud of death claimed her. He had sat there many hours gripping her hand, thinking that she might still have life as her hand gripped his in return. The rigor mortis provided brief disillusionment and comfort. He wept violently with no one but his own company to keep.

On the other side, she waited impatiently for his death. She screamed for him to lay down and give in. She yearned for him to join her. Her loneliness found no salvation in death. Without him, without her soul…there was no way for her to continue. An endless purgatory of repeating pain and despair. Death stood idly by…






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