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Sonnet 1: Mystic Mourn to Lover's Lost
#WritcoPoemPrompt11
The days were unending as were the nights,
And she waited and waited and waited,
But there seemed to be no hope in sight;
So she cried and cried, until her heart for pain bled.
Her pillows she drowned in tears through and through,
Sinking her thoughts in the mire of horrific hallucination,
With bottles, emptied to her soul, just to keep view,
Thus steering up memories in a clouded imagination.
And O, what brokenness, what bitterness, what bain;
Without monition drifted he, only to say 'goodbye',
Leaving her tender heart to bleed in memory's lane,
Ah, for love's course she's lost her treasured psyche!
Yet, should she ever want to love again,
Her first she would her heart to reign.
© Atonuje Efe
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