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Love, I can feel your barb

Love, I can feel your barb,
and yet as I dare purge it,
its spurs bite deeper within,
the pain sears;
the feathers mock, their colours
rasp, grate, jangle,
as your poison creeps
into the blood;
the steel shaft
- catching the moonrays -
shines coldly even as
the stricken body thrashes;

and then the pain dulls,
the soul is deadened to pain,
now but a faint throb;
but the heart tormented
raves, screams, wails,

but silenced, slain,
at last surrenders.


so well written, raamesh, with your sense of the classical. intense, this love barb! xoxoxoxo
Ozymandias said…
Thank you so much, Laura!