The Doom

April 08, 2021

The Doom

Warm welcome, people! Hope you have been doing good! If not then, here I send you a hug. 🤗 Hugs make everyone better.

Let's come back to the blog. I have no context to give for the poem. It's pure fiction and should I mention that I kinda love the feel of it?

Anyways, you are now free to read through this poem and let me know what ya think about it. Go Ahead.

The Doom

Every day and night
every minute of my time
I watch you from a distance
moving around the house
sometimes finding,
or sometimes hiding things.

I don't remember the last time we talked,
the last time we ate together
or laughed together.
We've lost our love,
the day I lost the place
I used to call my home.

All I am left with,
is just a broken vase,
the soil leaking out of it all over the place
the withered flower lying peacefully,
the keen petals of it, ready to strike.

I see you moving around right now
trying to find the letters you wrote to me
when we were young.
It's been years since our love died.

Why do you want those letters?
You think you can rejuvenate my love
out of all the broken pieces,
bleeding parts,
or the keen petals of my heart?

You're a fool,
you've always been.

All that is left in me is a seed of rage.
It's blooming,
burning
and maddening.

Our love didn't die,
it was robbed off it's eternity
by the hands of you.

I had to burn that house down,
'cause it had the memories of you,
the memories of me,
and the memories of my love for you.

So I struck the matchstick,
soaked our wooden floor with gasoline
while you were in there with her.

All your love letters,
all my love,
our memories,
you and her
were finally ready to go down into the crackling fire.

Once and for all.

The twist in this story was,
you came out of the fire alive
while she burned alive
and I died inside.