Done

Thunder raged outside.
Rain battered windows
rattled trees.
She slumped inside.

His words, his memory,
his voice. All hollow now.
Ink blurred by tears,
love’s letters torn to shreds

Ripped asunder.
Bits and pieces of paper
scattered across the floor.
Love spent, annihilated.

Too many bits and pieces,
impossible to reassemble.
She collapsed into the abyss
eye of the storm.

halloween-1720071_1920

Day 13: National Poetry Writing Month. Prompt from Toads was a real challenge today: 1) Write a poem using 3 to 13 words from the following quotation:

“People disappear when they die. Their voice, their laughter, the warmth of their breath. Their flesh. Eventually their bones. All living memory of them ceases. This is both dreadful and natural. Yet for some there is an exception to this annihilation. For in the books they write they continue to exist. We can rediscover them. Their humor, their tone of voice, their moods. Through the written word they can anger you or make you happy. They can comfort you. They can perplex you. They can alter you. All this, even though they are dead. Like flies in amber, like corpses frozen in the ice, that which according to the laws of nature should pass away is, by the miracle of ink on paper, preserved. It is a kind of magic.” ~ Diane Setterfield

2) AND the poem must employ a metaphor: a thing regarded as representative or symbolic of something else, especially something abstract. In Done, the storm rages outside and inside. Love letters torn into bits and pieces are her life; in her mind, too shredded to reassemble.

FOR A MORE POSITIVE AND FUN POST TODAY, go to my prosery post, for dVerse, The Second Act.

17 thoughts on “Done

  1. Susie Clevenger April 13, 2020 / 3:00 pm

    Over…It is a storm we hope will eventually take us to a safe harbor. Powerful writing

    Liked by 1 person

    • lillian April 14, 2020 / 2:44 pm

      Thank you, Susie. Appreciate your comment!

      Like

    • lillian April 14, 2020 / 2:46 pm

      For me, there is always a light at the end of the tunnel. For this portrait, I’m not so certain.

      Like

  2. Magaly Guerrero April 13, 2020 / 5:47 pm

    “love’s letters torn to shreds” Some images just break a heart. There is just something about words spilled from heart to paper and then turned to pieces that hurts so much.

    Liked by 1 person

    • lillian April 14, 2020 / 2:47 pm

      Yes….and that is exactly how the woman in this fictitious poem feels. You’ve nailed it.

      Liked by 1 person

    • lillian April 14, 2020 / 2:47 pm

      Thank you, Rosemary! I truly appreciate your comment here…I always value your opinion.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. sanaarizvi April 14, 2020 / 1:21 am

    I agree, this is incredibly potent. These lines particularly stand out for me; “Ink blurred by tears,
    love’s letters torn to shreds/Ripped asunder.” 💝

    Liked by 1 person

    • lillian April 14, 2020 / 2:48 pm

      Thank you, Sanaa. I so appreciate your comment and most especially because you are the writer supremo of romantic and love sigh poetry!

      Like

  4. kim881 April 14, 2020 / 4:21 am

    I love the way the storm frames the poem, Lill, the line ‘love’s letters torn to shreds’, and the repetition of ‘bits and pieces’ to emphasise emotion.

    Liked by 1 person

    • lillian April 14, 2020 / 2:49 pm

      Thank you, Kim. Glad you caught that….I added the first stanza as I was editing.

      Liked by 1 person

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