I sit before your grave and mourn you, or perhaps I mourn for me. The light that was stolen from my life is unjust, leaving behind a harsh glare where once there was a gentle glow. I still feel your touch, your hand gently caressing my face as it slowly slides into my hair, cupping the back of my head. I feel my eyes flutter shut as you gently glide my lips toward yours. A final remembered glance of your amber tinted eyes as your deliciously long lashes flutter shut as well. My hand falls, not to rest on your soft, warm thigh, but upon this cold stone monument. Jarred from my revere, my tear moistened eyes open to see not your liquid eyes looking back, but the hard edifice that now entombs all that you were. If there had been one final moment, what would we have done; what would we have said; would you have allowed me to come with you? Is what was shared between us enough to carry me though another day in this world while you exist in another?
I sit before your grave and mourn you, or perhaps I mourn for me. The light that was stolen from my life is unjust, leaving behind a harsh glare that blinds me to all the beauty you once revealed. Perhaps I will lay my head down and rest with you one last time. The snow my cushion, my memories the only warmth I need on this cold, heartless night.
© Copyright 2013 Nina D’Arcangela. All Rights Reserved.
I’m doing the 2013 Blogging from A to Z Challenge! Pop back everyday but Sunday through the month of April for a new letter prompt to spawn my deranged ramblings! ;}
Nina D'Arcangela
Sotet Angyal 
April 8th, 2013 at 3:04 am
Ah, sad and sorrowful. Not to mention beautifully rendered. I can’t but think as I read this, “she gets it, that woman.” But of course, you’re delicious love for the macabre and Gothic are never far! 😉
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April 9th, 2013 at 3:24 pm
Thank you, Matt! I do love my dark tragedies; and I absolutely love to suck others into the emotions that wrap them up in knots. Thank you again for the compliment, this is what I genuinely love to write. It’s gratifying to know others appreciate what I manage to put forth. ;}
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April 8th, 2013 at 9:20 am
I adore your darker pieces! This so beautifully describes the loss of a lover. It reminds me of one of my favourite songs, ” I Am Stretched On Your Grave”, which is from an anonymous Irish Gaelic poem, sung by Kate Rusby.
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April 9th, 2013 at 3:27 pm
I’ll have to find the song, I’ve never heard it. Thank you Karen! The darker pieces are my true passion when it comes to writing. I take them ‘to’ heart, or maybe I should say ‘from’ heart – as grammatically inaccurate as that would be.
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April 8th, 2013 at 9:59 am
A sad and well written prose Nina
well done for “G”
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April 9th, 2013 at 3:28 pm
Thank you so much. 🙂
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April 8th, 2013 at 10:16 am
Wow, Nina…I’m at a loss for words. You’ve taken all the darkness within, without & about you & have once again woven something magical. “Grave” is beautiful…darkly, richly beautiful. I absolutely love it!! 🙂 If readers wish to experience emotive prose…I mean, really feel it..then they should look no farther than you.
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April 9th, 2013 at 3:29 pm
Thank you Joe! Your comments are always so flattering. It’s wonderful to know that someone loves my writing as much as I love crafting it! :}
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April 8th, 2013 at 11:42 am
I really feel this piece Nina, even more so than usual! It is dark but beautiful, almost poetic. A real treat to read.
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April 9th, 2013 at 3:33 pm
It actually started as a poem, but that’s not really my thing. Let’s call it poetic muse for lack of a better term. I don’t really do well with restriction on cadence or syllables, I prefer to let the piece flow the way it needs to. I’m flattered to know that you were able to feel this piece so clearly. I pour all of ‘me’ into these short emotive rambles, and knowing they are effective is extremely gratifying. Thank you Thomas!! 🙂
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April 8th, 2013 at 12:34 pm
“I sit before your grave and mourn you, or perhaps I mourn for me. “…love this line…I suspect many mourners mourn for themselves.
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April 9th, 2013 at 3:36 pm
I agree wholeheartedly. After all, isn’t that ultimately what the marker is for? The one who is lost will never see it… it’s those left behind that need a place to remember and heal their own souls. Thank you for commenting, and understanding my prose; it’s greatly appreciated!
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