The Bereaved
The broken twig snaps,
Splintering all but my bitter soul upon the ground.
A coldness creeps upon me,
I fear,
I embrace,
I love.
So beautiful, the falling leaves of Autumn,
The crescent moon within the sky.
I hate that I should see when you do not,
That I should feel what you cannot.
Forgive me for the life I breathe,
I breathe with laboured guilt.
The broken twig snaps,
My foot,
Upon your grave.
I am a 31 year old author and mother of three living in Forres on the north east coast of Scotland. I have been creatively writing for as long as I can remember and love to write in the genre of horror and science fiction. I recently won story of the month in The Long Story Short Magazine and am hoping to continue my success.
My link to my twitter account is: https://twitter.com/wordsonview
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