Killing me softly

rose petaled hands caress infant cheeks
soothing echoes from memory speak
of whispered lullabys about the moon
while fragmented winds carried thy tune

a sound distorted
as time goes on
I ache to behold thee
but thou hast gone

my heart has grown bitter from such a loss
for what is christmas without the frost
we exchange the gift of life for death
lest we be thankful for another breath

yet the air is stale
and the stench is costly
my soul erodes
killing me softly.....

For her memory

just beautiful...

the longing of what was acutely felt

rose petaled hands caressing
a beautiful description

lifes tragedies...misfortunes.....precious charms on our life bracelet

Very nice.
Loved the second half especially.

"my heart has grown bitter from such a loss
for what is christmas without the frost"

Dig it.

very deep and heartfelt....

for her memory,,wink Nice write.

yeah i dug it too, professor H. Finn