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What have I done? She wonders…
Brittle blue gaze riveted on her lover’s chiseled features
His is a face set in stone
Eyes, mouth, jaw; all fixed, grim – a granite façade
Where has the softness gone?
That tender dawning of affection…
The loving gleam in dark chocolate eyes…
What have I done to erase it? She wonders -
Because she knows it was her doing
Knows it instinctively;
The knowledge is engrained in every fiber of her being
It was she, who else, who turned that face into rock,
It was she who wiped away the smile, the glow
Her cursed ire, her impatience, her irascible self-destructive streak –
With these tools she chipped away at him until he splintered
Yes she has broken him;
Broken the one thing she loved in all the world
Medusa-like, her willful cerulean glare turned him to stone
Now his eyes are twin pebbles
Cool, hard, unforgiving;
A grating stare is all he has to offer her
His heart sits motionless, a hunk of marble in the cage of his ribs
Beating for her no longer
His love for her has died a frigid death; drowned in a sea of ice
No more the fluid caresses, the warm grins, the ruffling of her hair
No more, no more, his love for her…
It is an unfeeling and frigid monument now
A tombstone, a dusty memory, the rattling chill of the Reaper’s breath
She has turned him into stone
Her lover - and her love - is no more
Oh Medusa, Medusa my girl, what have you done?
©2007-2010 ~melancholy-delilah
:iconmelancholy-delilah:

Author's Comments

You know those quizzes - what would your superpower be? Mine would be turning people to stone with my eyes.

Comments


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:iconmari-a:
I love how this poem is, essentially, a metaphor taken literally. The imagery stood out more than anything and was brilliant.
I really enjoyed this! :+fav:
:iconsecondsb4catastrophe:
good work ...

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count down 10,9 , 8 ,7 65 4
,3 2,1, 0 =>[link]
:iconmelancholy-delilah:
wow...thank you so much, your compliments mean a lot to me....i love imagery so I'm glad i seem to have got it right with this poem. :-) thanks again! *hugs*

--
The faint blaze of the candle of my life,
slowly dying like a fire in pouring rain.
No sparks of hope inside,
no shooting stars on my sky.
On broken wings, no flying high...
:iconmelancholy-delilah:
thank you so much :-)

--
The faint blaze of the candle of my life,
slowly dying like a fire in pouring rain.
No sparks of hope inside,
no shooting stars on my sky.
On broken wings, no flying high...
:iconmari-a:
You're very welcome :hug:
:iconsadconfusion:
absolutely outstanding...i can't pick a fav..i love them all

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August 18, 2007
1.7 KB

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