Author's blurb: I found this in handwritten form lingering in a forgotten corner of my desk. I've been writing poetry for years, but I have no idea if my poems are halfway decent or if they're sucky. Anyway, feel free to let me know...
Undone
They said it was pity that saved him.
No.
It was a current of love and compassion
That only they could see.
He hurt.
Over and over, year in, year out, he hurt—and thought.
Until he stood up one day and said, "I don't want to hurt anymore."
And so it was.
He thought nothing,
Thought nothing of breaking her,
Thought nothing of taunting him,
Thought nothing of destroying everyone against him.
There was no pain.
Only the dead feel of the untamed rope in his hands.
And he would have killed her, too,
If the Devil had not weakened for a moment
And allowed him to fall to his knees.
So she lived. Afraid.
Which path, the right or the left?
Both lead to death, each one equally gruesome.
Make your choice.
He sat back icy, waiting for her to fall.
No.
Courage, love battled and won,
Igniting a new star in heaven
As she gave him her heart for the first and forever time.