Tag Archives: Love Story

It Hurts

I have been afraid to write of love lately. It takes away too much out of me.

Love is the essence of living. And there are days, which these days are most days when I feel it hurts too much to speak of love with careless abandon. I did so once. Perhaps even dared to do it twice. Once all was said done, I was left with a mere shell of my words. 

If I dab my pen too much into love’s ink, it hurts. It hurts when I speak of what I had. It hurts when I speak of what I don’t have. It hurts to look at my empty hands and I realize even my wishes have slipped through my fingers. 
© Romancing Life | 2017


Lanterns on the Moon

Oh, it’s been a long and lonely ride. Stumbling through this life, you’ve made a pit stop every time someone has offered to be kind. To love the rotten parts of you, just enough to keep you alive. In your desperation, you let them, knowing all too well, with every encounter your heart was crying. A little more each time. Eventually, the tears turning into oceans, and the waves pulling you towards the Eastern shores, where I reside. For your welcome, even the silver orb shines, illuminating the night sky. And, baby if the brightest beacon is not enough to guide you home, I’ll hang lanterns on the moon.

© Romancing Life (2017)

Grace (iii)


Image Source: Google
Drip, Drip.
The scarlet pool surrounding her
blanched skin grows larger.
As her life force grows thinner,
there is low humming in the
background – a slight buzz.
The likes of
songs of sultry sirens;
hypnotic notes – mermaid made,
lulling her into an almost
catatonic state.
Recalling the mellifluous sound of his voice
crystal-clear – the gravelly dulcet tone,
“Come back,” the words echo
bouncing of the ghostly walls.
“Come back to me darling,” he whispers again,
“Come back home.”
It might be her imagination running wild
or the reality- in truth
she could no longer educe.
The noise is slowly fading,
her breath grows shallow and
her body is now weak.
All the remenanets of his love
form her system have now bled away.
She’s but an empty shell
a structure of misery and bone;
too late, too late now,
she’s far too gone
to come back home
to his familiar embrace.
His voice – no longer
her saving grace.
——The End——
To read Part 1, please click here & to read Part 2, please click here!
Please let me know what you all thought? I’d love to hear your thoughts!

Grace (II)

Artwork by Elisabeth Lisa
Grace (ii/iii) (Read Below)
She remembers his face,
a face all too familiar.
The rhapsodic look in his eyes,
the gentle curve of his smile
the sharp edges of his jaw,
the sleek terrain of his nose
the darkness emanating
from his being,
his magnetic pull
ever so strong.
A face, all too familiar,
one too many times she’s seen.
A face she’s known for ages
since her soul was
birthed into existence,
age after age,
eon after eon;
engraved into her conscious.
She seeks him out
in every lifetime,
sometimes several times
in one,
only to be scorned
but always with a touch of love.
She seeks, she struggles, she strives
she finds, she falls, she loves,
somehow it’s never enough.
—–To Be Continued—-
To read Part 1 please click here!

The Devil’s Call


Image Source: Deviantart
In a sultry-dulcet tone,
he beckons me close.
“Come here, darling,
let me look into your soul.
Don’t be shy now.
I promise it won’t hurt.
C’mon now, love,
don’t be so curt.”
Now if I wasn’t so afraid,
I might have taken
him up on his offer.
I knew not,
what had him so
So I silently quivered,
and shook
where I stood.
He looked at me next
as though my actions
had him perplexed.
A light flickered
somewhere in the room
and the darkness spread;
previously golden orbs,
now glowed in red.
Breathless, I moved back,
stumbling, tumbling
before I hit the ground,
he caught my fall;
he smiled richly,
all while capturing
my heart,
“Sweet, little girl
nobody ignores
the Devil’s call.”



Dancing with the Devil (i)


Image Source: Be Sketchy
“You have the face of
a devil,”
her laughter echoed
the old marble structure
under which they stood.
He frowned.
She giggled some more,
her melodious voice
bouncing of the ancient walls –
walls that had not heard
a mortal sound
long lifetimes past.
“…like that of an innocent child,
untouched, pure and milky white.”
Bewildered, and bemused
he looked up
and then down,
after a deep thought
concluding she’d lost
her pretty mind.
She’d heard
the words he didn’t
her mind a million
miles away,
the part of her present
with his continued to play,
“You’re are a beautiful man,
too beautiful of your own good,
I see the your gentle facade,
truly my love,
you are a work of art.
I am afraid though,
despite your charms
you’ve lost this war.
you’ve lost your chance.
I won’t offer the
devil another dance.”
© 2016 Romancing Life

Man of Glass (iv)

Man of Glass copy

In his tightly
held embrace,
the beautiful rose
began to dissipate.
The atmosphere turned dark.
In seconds
the temperature dropped
a degree or ten.
A strong gust of wind
passed them by;
the earth beneath their feet,
silently quivered.
No heed was paid.
her velvety red petals
began to scatter,
here and there;
Within moments she was
into a scarlet storm.
A tornado of red,
surrounding the
man made of glass.
The fury of nature, –
For the longest while
not a thing could heard
or seen.
An age might have passed,
before the things began to calm.
He was certain,
he heard a loud gasp.
The rose was no longer
in his arms.
He looked at his empty hands
he could feel no pain.
He lifted arms,
then his legs,
surprised at ability to flex.
The dark crimson rose
had given up herself –
merged with him;
the two
one flesh.

_______________________ THE END___________________

To read the previous parts please click the following links:

Part i           Part ii           Part iii

Let me know what you guys think! Love y’all.

~ Rose