Slow Death (triolet)

Seeing the fire in your eyes die
I walked to the house alone
wishing my eyes would let me cry.
Seeing the fire in your eyes die
took away all reason to try
and pretend you were not yet gone.
Seeing the fire in your eyes die
I walked to the house alone.

poem by A.S. Wilson
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!