Forever Cursed

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We spit and we cursed yet our hearts alike had burst. Medusa torn laid defenseless upon the ground. We wonder what could have been; whilst over harp pale misery moaned. Mere sight of her face would turn onlookers to stone. Half imagined tale lead us to believe that perhaps suitor of blind rage could thus torment assuage. In accordance to Celtic myth ‘Neto’Β swashbuckling god of war, seemed to be adept for whispered tales of lore. Thus the streams of sorrow ceased to swell and pour.

Sweet surrender
dawn gifts a luscious bud
proffer of love.


Photo credits:Β

Dark Poetry for Cruellest Month


16 Replies to “Forever Cursed”

  1. That first falling in love can sometime feel like a harsh process, especially when it flies in the face of all we’ve expected out of life. But embracing it is so liberating – may the lovers love on happily for a long time.

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