Your sultry tongue remains a jigsaw piece.
This firmament which hails the broken sphere.
But you and I were always meant to cease.
The depth I let you fall... indeed was shear.
No climbing tools can ever mate your hands,
into the bitter rock which cleaves your heart .
So fling yourself down further from these lands.
Your abstract dirt will no more stain this art.
I whispered twice to you, in echoed calls,
and in my glee, your voice was torn and frayed.
How joyful, sin, whenever diamond falls.
How bitter, life, when heartstrings are betrayed.
You tried to climb. I stamped upon your tongue.
Forgive me dear. Your last song has been sung.
©spilvenr
S