Anaesthetise
Touch the snow on the ground,
It's cold as my soul.
Melting down like my tears,
Never to be whole again.
Let this cold and weary day,
Preserve our dying broken hearts.
Oh my last minute with you,
To kiss your cheek good bye.
Let this freezing sorrow wind,
Freeze this last moment of love.
And like our foot prints on the snow,
We shall go on separate ways.
You to your new love.
And I to my loneliness.
Apocalypse Spirit
It's been so long since I wrote anything, well I hope you enjoyed the poem and have a nice day! Thank you for your visit too.