Posted by: Ron DuBour | May 8, 2019

Virginia~by Kati Arana Coello




Image may contain: 1 person, closeup

The heroine in his life was she.

With tender eyes 
and loving lips,

And small gentle hands
and fingertips

With beautiful long hair
that flowed like wine

Her memory intoxicated
his heart every time.

He stood there still, as still can be.

On top of the hill
that was by the sea,

Writing candid verses
of him and she

And how their romance
& simplicity

Was envied by all
who just couldn’t see

A rare devotion that was meant to be.

He wrote that real 𝓐𝓶𝓸𝓻
was hard to obtain,

Such burns the love
of an eternal flame,

But she was child bride,
plagued by death

And he cried, and he prayed
until, she exhaled her last breath

Her demised birthed madness
and addictive sensations

So, he turned to the bottle
and chemical recreations.

All the people he loved seem to always die.

And he needed to numb it all
and not cry,

He had…
No fortunate
No mother
No wife
No child

He let go of it all and his imagination went wild.

So, he read, and he wrote,
and he wrote, and he wrote

As he sexed, drank, injected,
sniffed and smoked

His genius became dark
morbid and insane

He bravely fought for his words
And his hard rise to fame

And just when things,
seemed to be getting better

He died tormented and alone,
because he couldn’t forget her.

Copyright @KatiAranaCoello 💞

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