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Sunday, July 15, 2007

A story of love inspired me to write this. Just felt like writing it.


“Why do you do what you do?” she whispered softly, her voice echoing through the forlorn night, tears glistened in her eyes.

His heart ached, his head pounded. It wasn’t his fault! Please understand… It wasn’t… It wasn’t…

“I trusted you… and why?” she looked up, her poignant eyes haunting him. Anger, resentment, guilt and immense hurt hovered in its silvery depth.

He shook his head. Why couldn’t she understand? Why couldn’t she?

“I loved you… No, I still loved you…” Her eyes begged him, pleaded him. “Why?” Her cry was almost desperate. Desperate for him and his reasons.

The back of his eyes stung, the pain in his heart just intensified. She lay there, broken and spoiled in more ways than one. His heart ached to see her in that state, her once strong resolve broken into pieces, shattered like fragile glass… All by a monster… by him.

“Why?”

The rain poured, crying together with her. Her golden tresses stuck to her skin, her dark black gown hanging on her curves. To him, she never looked more beautiful.

“Why?”

Because he died.



-Fungus

Blogged @ 12:26 AM
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