Hollow Sorrow

The hollow sorrow.
As the turtle dove cries
When the thorn bird
falls;
plunging
into
the
roses below.
Self entanglement
no relief of pain.

As the life force stains
the ground below
swallows
whole
replacing
intensity;
a
quiet
dark
numb.

Silent
in its
despair.
Knowing
that only one is there.

There is no
replacement
for the souls
other
half.

No tears to cry
when that piece
was never a
piece
to begin with.

Emptiness.
The black
pitch
Surrounds the
roses.
Their color
once
of life;
blood.

Replacing it
Assassins thorns
now
suffocate
with out
stealing
breath
of the
thorn bird
in
the
anguished
cry.

The
turtle dove
can
only
watch,
soul wrenched.

Fallen stars
from the sky.

As the turtle dove
coos;
the rose
forever dark,
swallowing
the
thorn bird
suspended
in
death
sentenced
with
Eternal
Life.