His heart turned cold
And like a plague
The infectious pain
Dragged her to the grave
Met with hers
His lifeless eyes
He flitted out
From her life
Her heart turned
Into a stone
A heavy burden
She now owned
She paced the room
To walk it off
But to no avail
It would not let off
She dug her nails
Making a mess
She ripped her way
Through her chest
With a knife
She cut it out
Still she haunts
Every night
They say she died
Of a broken heart
Minutes after
Her lover part
Sleeping sweetly
Eternally dressed in white
Her death a mystery
Past in the night
She held his hand
Terminally ill
Forever she loved
To this day still
<Just watched the last episode of Vampire Diaries series 3. The menu screen has Eleanor holding a heart and this inspired my poem. Most the time I have no clue where my ideas come from or are too private to share.>
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