Mildred's Sickness Poem by Izzy F

Mildred's Sickness



Two souls, split apart by a varied apparition.
Though in one body, the mind is conquered from the effort of choosing right and wrong.
Ripped in half by two giant hands of ebony and gold, the heart is torn from better judgment.
Sprinkled in dust from the pollution of iron wings, he sat there in the caving room beside a body.
The oval eyes stared sullenly up at him while he prisoned his lips with the echo of her name.
The house was the epiphany of horror and fear.
Occasional thoughts of a moonlit girl's imagination and the profession of his job scurry his thoughts for a second like the sparks of a fire trying to start.
A content mosquito eyes the scene while a wasp lavishes in the twilight.
His blanketed gaze lays upon the covered head of confusion and unknowing.
The audio sounds of an ocean still pulsate from her ears.
He hastily reaches for the phone and calls, calls, calls...

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
From 'Fahrenheit 451'
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