Fated by the stars,
Pained by unseen cuts.
Waiting for the scars,
Feeling as though I'm in a rut.
But soon enough,
Since the cuts are rough,
The drops of blood
Soon become a flood.
Destiny, please don't waste
What time hasn't already replaced.
In all weariness and delay,
I regret nothing
Waiting for my body to decay.
Still, I lay
With my lover by my side
Not dead,
But not alive.
As my figure turns to lead
I feel your perfect face
And, as my heart begins to race,
Though my end is near
At least you are here;
And even though we'll both be dead,
I wonder if we'll truely be at our end.
Samantha Edvalson
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/misshapen-misgivings/
