A Misty Agony

Tonight the chill
Nips my skin.
The puffs of air
From my mouth,
Disappear into the
And become a misty agony,
As snowflakes
Fall from heavy, laden

I sigh and think you
And how, on nights like this,
You were here,
Spilling secrets
And stitching my heart
Back together.

You sang the saddest songs
To me,
And assuaged my damaged

Now your memory
Has gone into the same clouds
I’m gazing at,
But instead of feeling empty and
I feel at peace.

Because your love was beautiful
And delicate
And kind.

Your love was the magic of a quill
Possessed by wounded poets,
And pure.

And it was all mine.

I used to wonder if I am
Kin to sorrow,
Or was it a punishment
For something done in a
Past life.

But you opened my eyes,
To see the truth.

My pain was not an albatross
Around my neck.
It was my path to freedom.
A path to a new world.

And at the end of my path,
Littered with black roses
And tears,
There you stood,
Waiting for me.

Much like you are right now,
Waiting for the day,
I join you in those
Frozen clouds that cry
No more rain.

Art: Unknown/Pinterest

“Misty agony”
“The magic of a quill is possessed by wounded poets.”
“Sing the saddest song.”
“Am I kin to sorrow?
“Frozen clouds no more cry rain.”

Published by Kim V Poetry

I've always had a passion for writing. In this crazy world that we live in, I find my solace in made up words and make believe stories. Let's escape into the void and forget about it all just for a moment or two.

3 thoughts on “A Misty Agony

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