Remain Hours

Enveloped with emptiness

The soul craved and heaved,

Tears never touched the cheek bone,

But the heart wailed louder than before.

Was it the sound of the Death knell,

Or the faint sound of departing footfall,

Broken, shattered,

Bereft and battered,

The pulsating heart

Haunted the walls

Of the rib cage

Through the remaining hours

Of this life.

This poem participates in Jingle poetry

Poetry Potluck Week