The fight is over

The blood stained moon
On my cold dead hands
My sword in the ground
And my knees in the sand
My soul lost, never found

Pierced through the heart
But not by arrow or spear
By love and peace
Her face I wish near
But truth makes a crease

I fought for her
Till her heart ceased
Not disease or petulance
But my own hate
She died for my sake

Reviews

[MadasonBlue]

This is... sad.
Especially "truth makes a crease".
I like it.

[Elliot Kyron]

I can feel the heartbreak in this piece. It's stunning. Love it.