The Post Is Bills
To love is to die upon a lover’s curse,
It churns the guts to see the post is bills,
A broken heart then yearns to see its hearse,
As nothing, nothing but emptiness fills
The gap she left with a cruel goodbye.
My barren heart she placed where vultures feed,
Without an offering for reasons why,
Abandoned, alone, love is left to bleed,
But why can’t I return to life before,
Before you came to steal and kill my heart,
With empty promises that rocked my core,
My soul was lost before dear love could start.
I can no longer see beauty of light
Without love there can be only night.
Form: English Sonnet
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