An Autumn Tale

She crashed into my life one fateful fall,
And everything I thought or breathed was her;
A shadow, a penumbra, over all,
That left me, though in darkness, undeterred

For soft she was upon my bleeding eyes,
And hard she was in torment of desire;
The death of entropy, the natural highs,
The barrel full of leavings set on fire

That rose in smoke into the autumn night;
Inhaling as the sparks flew everywhere,
I took her by the hand into the light
Of burnt-up promises, and spent up air

I gave her all I was – there was no more –
And then she left me, empty, on the floor

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

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