Beatrice

The heart ached

A lump in the throat.

Eyes well up.

Unrequited.
Time passed on,
Memories faded,
A glimpse in the water,
It flowed downhill.
In the garden of smiles,
An alabatross landed.
Spoke of the lost world,
Gestured a blessing. 
A saddened lost soul,
Promises of a glass half full.
Flowers and scents adorned
The broken throne of the bygone. 
Scattered and tattered, it was strewn,
Mercilessly across the visciousness 
The  ghastly wounds deepened,
With each gavel hitting the ground. 
Walking in the deep water,
Drinking a wicked potion,
Climbing on a ledge,
Breaking the monotony.
The thoughts clamoured,
The tears dried up, 
A rope in hand and 
A smile on the face. 
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