walk home
alone
in a tailored suit
reminded of
their honey moon
through the door
his hatred blooms
weary legs give way to swoon
she lay so soft
in another's hands
love buried in a bitter sand
head cradled in her trembling hands
bleeds of sorrow's last
demand
little words
he left unsaid
to paint a wicked bed
in red
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem