Hollow Sorrow

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The hollow sorrow. As the turtle dove cries When the thorn bird falls; plunging into the roses below. Self entanglement no relief of pain. As the life force stains the ground below swallows whole replacing intensity; a quiet dark numb. Silent in its despair. Knowing that only one is there. There is no replacement for the souls other half. No tears to cry when that piece was never a piece to begin with. Emptiness. The black pitch Surrounds the roses. Their color once of life; blood. Replacing it Assassins thorns now suffocate with out stealing breath of the thorn bird in the anguished cry. The turtle dove can only watch, soul wrenched. Fallen stars from the sky. As the turtle dove coos; the rose forever dark, swallowing the thorn bird suspended in death sentenced with Eternal Life.