Broken.

I had written this for my first ever (online) poetry competiton, and although it is quite dark, it holds a very special place in my heart.

Is this what has become of me?

This state of mine, I could never foresee;

My heart shattered, my very existence inutile,

Cast into oblivion, by your words so brutal.

I could have never imagined,

That pure heart of yours, tainted and blackened;

Those fragile touches and pale soft lips,

Resulting in my very own apocalypse.

Your empty promises weigh down on me,

So unmerciful, that I’d rather bathe in the Lethe,

To have no trace of your wicked doing,

And to put an end to this eternal suffering.

To the devil himself I would sell my limbs,

My soul and my heart by plucking each heartstring;

Let the blood flow for him to preserve as a token,

As a reminder of the one who was once broken.