Torment Of The Lamenter Poem by Melissa Hurst

The throbbing of my heart has mislead me, the wind is all that is left to follow. Maybe the breeze will soothe my heart along the way and I'll forget your name. How I wish that something could interpret my pain and jerk it from me, breaking the spell, removing the plug and allowing me to properly bleed. And if I should die, it would far surpass the agony that I endure each hour. In Death, there is conclusion but here I cannot obtain closure. My heart is a stubborn, forlorn thing that succumbed to your rotten curse and my life is nothing but rot. You're the mildew that I love to taste until I vomit and I am left on the floor with this sickness, this pining. What are you? What witches gave you counsel? What evil is it that lies behind the glow of your beautiful eyes? And what spell keeps me entwined with your ghost? What have you done to me?


What evil persuades one to string the weaker and drag them? Is it power or is it pride? How I ache to know what you feel, to discover what evil force drives you to bathe me in madness. You exploit sweet memories for selfish gain and lick your lips after you consumed and excreted the meat. Daring and devious is the heart and brain of you. But be still and wonder if your diabolical scheme will turn on you and consume you, ponder if the judgment of your maker will be as merciful as my love for you or as tormenting as the darkness that scourges my soul.