My Fictional Love Poem by Fathimath Farha

He jumped, he ran,
After the killer,
With a gun in his clutch,
He bleeds from wounds unknown,
Yet he persists, keeping the other,
Within sight.

He stumbles, he falls,
The thick vegetation, cutting in deep.
He is hurt, he can’t stand,
Tears of defeat drops,
Down his bruised cheeks,
He can’t fail, no, he can’t give up.

He struggles, he stands,
Scanning his surroundings.
There’s no one there, not one
Sound.
He lost him, he lost the killer,
He drops back on his knees,
Hopeless,
And he fades,
Another chapter closed.

My eyes strain from pain,
Yet I can’t stop reading,
What happens next?
Will he make it? I pray,
Deep in my heart, that,
He will make it, he will,
Live through.

The lump in my throat,
I try to swallow it, I try,
To fight back the tears,
That are formed from sympathy,
I cry thinking about his plight.

I can’t close the book, I must,
Find out, if he finds the killer,
If he uses his gun, to shoot,
Him down.
He must kill him, the one who,
Shattered his world, brought
Destruction upon his own,
Family.
I can’t deny it, can’t hold them back,
The feelings I have for him,
The sudden intakes of breaths,
When he is punched, kicked,
And slapped,
The rush of heartbeats,
As he creeps down the corridor,
Unwary of the danger,
That lucks in the darkness.
I know, he doesn’t, I want to,
Shout to him,
“NO! Don’t go! He’ll kill you! ! ”

But no, he can’t hear me,
His fate is written, in this,
Thick book that ends with,
The death of him.

I weep, the tears flow on their own,
I still can’t believe it, I sigh,
As I get up, closing my book,
With another broken heart,
Another dead fictional heartthrob,
Another tragedy,
Another novel read….