Ripples of her Tears


As the piercing whistle sounds its last, a conductor signals near

Yet, she stands, adorned with crimson blossoms she holds do dear

Church bells now chime their endless tones of grave depart

With echoes of his voice, still lingering, striking her heart


She carves a name upon the rime of the bitter air

Such trance, such grief, as her trembling foot hits the first stair

If onyl she could kiss those cheeks once more, blessed with perfection

Nothing but a whisper now on a train without direction


Such is the black veil that mocks those tear-stained eyes

Would this garment, perched with gloom, lead to her demise?

Alas! The lively throb arrives to its sure delay

Even the rain hums its lullaby on this forsaken day


Ripples of her tears dance tenderly upon the shore

Speaking a tale of misery, knowing she can take no more

She spreads his ashes beneath the coves, feeding that gaping sea

Only to think for a moment, where will my heart now be?



Guide that inspired this poem: 


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