I’ve decided I want to post more of my fiction on my blog, along with other writerly-life things. Sometimes people want to read someone’s work, rather than read about their struggles all the time. So, to kick this off, I’ve written another poem. For some reason poetry always comes out somewhat dark. I’m not really sure why.


On that dreadful night
It would be his test
A pistol pressed against his temple
To lay him to rest

It had been called cowardice
Though he knew it was just
For she had forsaken him
Shattered his trust

As the cold sweat formed
Glistening in the dim light
His finger slid over the trigger
He was ready to say goodnight

With a trembling hand
And an unsteady grip
His thoughts were racing
His life ready to slip

An echoing crack
He slumped to the floor
Atop a pool of blood
The pain was no more


6 thoughts on “Forsaken

  1. I also look forward to seeing more of your work online. Good poem, dark is fine. I think it is that sort of gothic/romantic notion about poetry that lends itself to darker content. Doesn’t matter though, you knock it out of the park each time.

    • I think you’re right, Steven. I always think of Poe whenever I think of poetry. Hm, I didn’t mean for that to sound like a pun, haha.

      And thank you!

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