A Hundred Broken Vows.
When your blood stops spurting out
I will pick up the knife.
Then cry, and cut my own heart out,
The way I tried to end your life.
A thousand blades come to my hands,
One for every stolen kiss.
Maybe, perchance, we'll meet again,
And kiss in the pits of tartarus.
But now, forgive me for my heinous crime,
And for the hundred broken vows.
But please, darling, promise me
To never forgive me for loving you.
The End
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THE GOODS
You're currently reading the poem
A Hundred Broken Vows., which
was posted on Sep 1, 2011 by
Amberactuallyritu.
This is a solo poem.
Some rights reserved.
This poem is filed under:
Love / Romance, Mature Themes, Simple Rhyme
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