All that is left
Of my dreams of us
Lays it’s limp neck off the noose
Rope cutting in deep
I can nearly feel it myself.
What once I treasured in my empty hands,
This precious hope
Now swings like a nightmare
In the stinging wind–
Property only of the gallows now.
Everyone else has left, feeling at peace…
Justice has been served.
I still stand in horror before your corpse
Remembering what you used to be.
a. b. martin