My friend,

my constant force…

i take heed

of your heartbeat

resounding into nightmares;

while i, too, weep.

i, too, devour

eonian despair

for your vigour

wasted into pieces,

atop wrinkled feathers,

against feasted flesh,

before uniformed elation.

i, while somber,

whimper whims

of cuddling your wearied

offspring, befalling

shallow tragedies.

but deep down,

my passive existence

now utters

primeval melodies

rattling Hades

into peerless altruism;

not for once

shall i halt,

not a chance

will your worth

again be morphed

into carcasses,

for i’ll mend

your spited wings.

-Armineonila M.




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