And so it ends,
Not with a bang but a whisper.
The serpent’s kiss
Of death bestows a pyrrhic freedom
On a man ensnared
In the love of a woman who was lost.
Beyond the soul
The silver strands of memory drip.
He departs yet
Grips the last fraying strands of life
For one glimpse of his life
had heart triumphed over busy head.
He slips the world
And silently seeks another station.
If the afterlife
Is merciful it will deliver him from
his self-inflicted prison
And he will weep and sleep soundly, whole at last.
AN: *whispers* Just to meet the word count.