Categories > Original > Poetry > Betrayal
My eyes were glazed
Blood covered my hand
He lay with eyes open; as if our love never fazed
Slowly I stand
Making my way out of the room
I wash the blood away
The color of a perfect rose in bloom
I may forgive his betrayal; but not today.
Blood covered my hand
He lay with eyes open; as if our love never fazed
Slowly I stand
Making my way out of the room
I wash the blood away
The color of a perfect rose in bloom
I may forgive his betrayal; but not today.
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