On Predicting Fate


In memory of friendship
that time leaves unscathed-
unlike the deathbed made
that you publicly displayed,
that stole your breath away.

A life laid to rest too soon,
when, just as you predicted,
your embellished fears
of an ultimate, lonely end
became your destiny-

a heart left to rot, to ruin
as its body bled out,
shed its lively hue-
traded cream and crimson
for death’s bleached suit.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com 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 )

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s