After having divorced, I never thought if I could find true love again until I met A*** by fate...later lost by his choice. Keeping my promise, here goes my last dedication to him and I believe I will never be able to love a man or myself again. And this might be my last piece of poetry.
Between those imaginations so vivid and the realities now so stark
Lies a soul in desolate wilderness, left only with her scars
A woman, once known as an Angel by the man of her life
Is no more than a carrion existence consumed by a million lies
Her heart, though, still is found…wrapped around the possession that she prized
Her hands have cradled broken glass until she cried and died
Closing her eyes to the merciless world in the wee hours of that night
She had thought about the moments, the gestures, the love and her only fright
Was it the reflection of good she had seen in him or was it the goodness in her to be blamed
Had it been that her prayers were answered or another suffering ordained.