I heard love died yesterday,
It was murdered—
Foul play.

A bow of distance,
The weapon of choice,
Slain by the very Cupid’s arrow
That had birthed it once.

In the reasoning of time,
One falls short of words
And fails to understand—
Where did it go?
What was once there?

The soul was scared away
By the bruises the body made,
And now it is just about the body
And maybe the mind,
That reasons more
Than it used to.

Poor heart stays quiet
In a dark corner—
Probably dead.

When was the last time
Of the last time
One did something for the other?
If you take a minute more,
It means it was long over.

When life gets sucked out of it,
It ceases to make any sense
To keep holding the body
When the coffin awaits.

Memories get washed away
With the tears of parting.
Let some tears be kept
For much colder days.

Let’s shoot it twice,
Just to be sure—
What if, like the undead
It turns into hate?