In rooms where guests used to congregate in I sit alone With my thoughts focused on the notable absence of you Whose angelic voice would fill up these hollow halls with song Where the people would dance and marvel at the spectacle I would sit smiling watching my bride-to-be bringing joy More content then than I ever knew could be possible Until you were stolen too early from blossoming life Betrayed by friends turned enemies cloaked in reek of deceit Alone now I think on love lost and revenge as a salve With blade carrying the name Elisa in your honor The cries of vanquished enemies will be the song it sings In the wailing of their defeat I will remember you I will be relentless until the last voice falls silent Then I will lay down my sword to come to your side once more
This week’s experimental poem is a Fourteener, a poem consisting of lines containing 14 syllables per line. You can read more about this form by clicking here.
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