Ryfry

This is death. Not that fate I suffered when bandits drained the life out of my struggling body on the points of two sharp fangs to my neck nearly a decade ago. Nor that same fate I then delivered to my Elaine. I call her my Elaine because she is my ruination, my damnation. She has destroyed me and will continue to destroy me until the last ragged breath is finally tortured from this miserable shell of a man. She was my undoing. Something that I've let poison my very soul is close enough to call mine. Her every word drips more of that venom into my spirit, coated in honey that doesn't mask the bane but smoothes its aim straight into my he

Was it just a flight of fancy That I saw within your eye? Just a dream I sowed inside that moment, Willing it to come alive. Was it ever really there, Or even mine to take? Or just a glimmer of false hope The over-eager mind does make? If I had taken what I saw, Maybe I would know. The answer to my question would be solved and I could go. But now it is I struggle, With that which I don't know. So next time in this moment I shall reap that which I sowed.

Broken bones Broken homes I want the broken bones. They're so much easier to fix. And so much easier to live with.

The dark fluster caught my eye, Flapping and floundering, Trying to get up, or so I thought, From the middle of the road. A whirling haze Of death defiance, A gasp, one last struggle for life. And only I bore witness. But what I thought was firstly death, Limp and lifeless, No commotion more, Betrayed me or amazed me, I'm not sure which. As in my remarked gaze, One sad death Became a twin life, The black dividing To fly two separate ways.