The Gallows of Destructive Love

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  • Lost Love

    The Gallows of Destructive Love

    The Gallows of Destructive Love


    It is a premature masturbation

    An error in believing that your grip was stronger than my weakening will

    Now that you have let the fingers of the noose loosen

    I fall with pieces of my dignity left at the gallows floor

    Escape is bittersweet for neither will survive

    I die quickly within

    And you are left to gasp with severed breath,

    A slow death of rotting within the corpse of your mind

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    wordCollective commented on The Gallows of Destructive Love

    10-20-2009

    Wow you were right! We do share a very style of writing. I loved it!

    soulwriter

    10/29/2009

    Thank you - and I always enjoy reading your written voice!

    Chaos128 commented on The Gallows of Destructive Love

    10-05-2009

    Jeez, Louise, Soul man, you'd give H.P. Lovecraft goosebumps with this piece.

    soulwriter

    10/05/2009

    I will take that as a high compliment!

    lionlambluv commented on The Gallows of Destructive Love

    09-04-2009

    Pain is what I feel when reading this. True feelings are portrayed! Nicely done!

    soulwriter

    09/04/2009

    This write was an oddity for me, no music playing / no one around or a troubled heart beating out the reason and it was written in a period of 15 minutes,,, one of those that I read and felt as if someone else had penned it in blood. Thank you for reading!

    danmartyjake1 commented on The Gallows of Destructive Love

    09-04-2009

    Very awesome imagery, indeed. I was captivated by the words you chose.

    soulwriter

    09/04/2009

    A short piece written in a matter of minutes with a long lasting meaning - thank you for your comments!

    cmlestrade commented on The Gallows of Destructive Love

    08-15-2009

    Truly creates a pensive mood. The metaphors stengthen the image you create, very good submission

    soulwriter

    08/24/2009

    Sometimes love can be painful and actions unexpected and though love dies a little it still remains forever inside as a part of us. Thank you.

    Poetry is what is lost in translation.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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