The taste
that burns my throat.
Such taste . . .
sweeter than honey
richer than wine.
The life-giving liquid
that flows through
Man and beast.
I see the petrified look
on my darling's face.
Such innocence,
Beauty, and grace.
She gave me a meal
Worthy of the kings.
Her body so still and pale.
No remorse
only regret
that I didn't save her to last
"My darling"
I whispered
"I could have kept you."
"How of an easy task that would be"
Licking my fingers clean
enjoying
and savoring,
The last drops.
It is a shame.
Her death has to be this way.
Second poems. I am very proud of this one.
please don't nag me about my grammar or poem errors.
-Bloodyren