Threading Needle

Our lives are woven with such thin fabric.

I looked at your eyes
So dead and cold
Devoid of color
A world of noir untold
As you stitched the fabric, so delicately intertwined
You added the story
Of your mothers crime
She stabbed and stabbed, killing you softly
Your eyes were gone, empty pools of torment
White and opalescent, they told a story
Of a fabric so thin
It broke over time
Shedding the layers so intricately aligned
You stitched and you stitched the fibers together
Your hands of death saw only the severed
Pieces of fabric, so wasted away
Dead and cold just like your eyes
As you picked up your needle
To thread the fabric another time

Reviews

[Lea Sheryn]

Wonderful! This reminds me of the Fates who cut the thread of life in ancient myth.

[Nyx]

Thank you so very much! I’m extremely inspired by Greek mythology, so it may have subconsciously impacted this poem.

[Lea Sheryn]

I've read a bit of Greek mythology too. It's very interesting.