Staccato.. Poem by Rosmin Elsa Mohan

The notes were a sober diminuendo
Headed to bathe in tears

I stood in the dark
His touch to feel no more
The never-seen wings of solitude
Now flapped in vigour
The eyes so filled with love
To see no more
Adamantly shut and shunned

Disconnected.

Across the lane of a destined fate
The journey called life that met its end
A life to give; A life to take
The strings to an abrupt break
In disguise.

He lay in white; a frame so cold
The warmth of his heat
Now could heal no more
For a divine purgatory
The verses were sung
But within a glance so awry
A spirit sprung young.

Staccato.