"Neither dead, nor alive…just dangling in between…"
…crumbling slowly, turning to ash, as
The lonely silence of dusk keeps spilling your laughter in my ears.
The greying skies won’t shed a tear…the black of
My robes weeps upon the lips of the thirsty scarlet roses.
The inscription has my name, yet not us as one.
Could my love not make you stay?
Was it so hollow, so weak?
And my heart..didn’t it hurt you to see it bleed?
What answers am I seeking and from
The shadows of which nameless elm of yew,
As I stand here, tracing the marks on the marble’s veins…
Just like a drooping, dry bud hanging face-down from her twig.
Neither dead, nor alive…just dangling in between.
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