Pieces…Falling

He stood there,
In the freezing rain,
Of a defeated heart.

Naked to the perils
And despair,
Of his failure
To be hers…

Of his failure
To serve her…

Of his failure
To meet her needs…

Of his failure
To nurture,
Wholly,
Their marriage.

The storm of his sin
Thrashed
His mind,
And in singular
Emotional destitution…

He felt the
Razors of sleet…

Cold,
Cutting,

Laying bare
The core of his
Supposed durability.

The artful,
Scheming,
And faux strength,
Of his ego
Now failed him.

The citadel
Of his power
And pride,
Developed
By his consumption
Of others…

Now failed him,
As well.

The colder he got,
The more the failures
And haunting untruths
Of his predecessor lies
Weakened him.

So there he stood,
In that freezing rain
And slicing sleet,
Watching
The pieces of
His heretofore dominance…

Fail,

And fall.

First,
The ego broke from him,
Jagged,
Ripping deeply
From his musculature…

And falling.

Second,
His pride,
Was torn from his mind,
Gaping,

And now falling.

Lastly,
His self-worth
Was carved
From his chest,
Leaving a chasm,
Where his heart
Formerly beat,

All…
Now falling.

Little was left of him now,
Other than the final understanding
Of his own mortality
And reflection
Of his grotesque,
Soulless imperfection,

All of him,
All the pieces,

Now,

Falling.

 

 

© 2018 W. C. Stacia, Jr.

 

2 thoughts on “Pieces…Falling

    1. Thank you! I really wanted to try to capture the image of a man falling apart, literally, from the recognition of his faults. Fun and interesting to attempt to do so. Glad you enjoyed it!

      Like

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