Sunday, August 24, 2014

Wait

If syllables bore weight, 'wait' would have definitely been lighter; alas, life isn't a haiku that runs on patterns.

Like the setting of a song, the ascent and the gradual transition from the ears to the soul to the parched lips, you have lived my heart, the monotonous humdrum fine tuned by the kisses you have so warmly enveloped across my arteries, pumping life into my shallow veins.

And then, one fine autumn evening, the poetry ended abruptly, the trees devoid of green, rustling my swan song, breezing past the tumultuous winds of fall.

You kissed my feet, and lay me in a coffin, wooden, bland, black; the musty air filling the interiors with hatred, the bile rising to my throat, drenching me with a willingness to die, to live again.

You betrayed my love, and here I wait; a wait for a new life, a new birth, when I shall go back to that world, undo the evil acts that you so vilely committed, and repay you for your sins, of burying me alive, my last breathes violently trampled by your dirt.


This Micro-Fiction is shared with Five Sentence Fiction.



8 comments:

  1. Very very very intriguing.. It's the darkness that leaves me most curious.

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  2. Each of the five lines takes you to a different emotion. brilliant

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  3. ... and that's how the cookie crumbles ...

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  4. Hey Good one Amrit....well written...though every other would have said this many times add mine to the list of the compliments for you...

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