The Tearing. by Fred van der Wal


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The Tearing.

Cold is the night
but he feels none.
Rather this.

The tearing rip
heart broken in two
the slow killing agony
tears hot,vision blurred.

He is the only one.
the street dark,
Light from a single window
once held the warmth
his cooling heart ablaze.

Now he stands his last will
the water waiting it's guest
One step and no more

As he slowly sinks
even the cold is gone
sweet long.....nothingness.