The end of Rylynn

The end of Rylynn

Silently whistling a melancholic exchange

the broken stacatto spats of angry pain coupled

with soft subtleties transcending the melodics

her eyes slowly turn away from mine

as she looks toward the setting red sun

Her mouth waits patiently, but her eyes

tell the countless wordless stories

of the once-youthful experience

once-beautiful childlike exuberance

that now rings aged, hollowed past due time

Many tears fallen from both our pinked-eyes

washing the ground's burnt-crimson clays

my body frozen and bent to last whims

wishing that we could again be away

wistfully willing the days of forgotten innocence

'Possibility' held within a matchbox of dying wishes

as mere hours from being dead hope;

stardust's frigid false beams that cannot stop

desperate swansongs. Their final pleas for the return

of the colorless rainbows from old playground memories

It's over, Rylynn