Taken from Tweets between @Musketeer_Athos and @Exquisite_Wren 30/07/2014

Paces anxiously outside her room as the physician attends to my broken song bird. Guilt and self loathing spike at my conscience.

She in an acutely restless state, found lying back in the bed where her battered form lays weak. She calls out in barely a incoherent, delirious whisper, hardly able to raise her head as the  lines of her surroundings regain from the blur that veiled her sight of all light.

“Athos… Athos… Where are you?”

Unaware of your calls  I sit with head in hands lost in a miasma of darkest, tortuous anguish.  I look up as the door jars opens, my heart missing a beat, unsure if the sight of the physician heralds good or bad news. With a pounding heart and stomach churning he speaks low voiced with his verdict. My face drains ashen white and I nod. Entering the room I see your sallow pallidity strewn before me.

She  attempts to sit upright and fails miserably. Her vessels flesh has the sensation of antiquated spasms, an emptiness of configuration, the feeling that something is gone. Her mouth is dry, her soul it weeps. But why? And now she see my face, along in it’s colourless state, my features left in this sadness…forlorne

I try to smile into her pale features as I move a stray lock from her forehead. I take her limp hand, rubbing it gently with my thumb as my eyes start to pool with grief.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

She struggles as she squeezes my hand, lying here as if sinking in sand, slowly she lifts her eyes in question from the look that falls from my inner sanction.

“Athos..what are you saying? I don’t know what you mean.”

She slightly shakes her head,

“Sit with me.”

Slowly and weakly she brings our embraced love of hands above her desolate body, resting them there where vacancy lies and my forced smile only broadens her heart’s cries.

I interlace my fingers with hers giving reassurance as my glazed eyes travel down her limp and broken body. I swallows hard, simultaneously squeezing our fingers together.

“…You’ve lost our child…”

A single tear trails its lonely journey down my flesh to soak its misery in the dark forest of my shadowed bristled cheeks.

She closes her eyes, sheathing behind her shocking grief, when allowing her head to fall to the side, silence befalls her and she slides up the sheet, to shield what is left of my features my saddened gaze meet. Guilt engulfs her, leaving her fatigued, empty, never thinking this would happen to the life…of her

“I want to be alone… ”

No tears come, no tears fall, encasing this heartache where ever her soul takes it, or was it ever there at all

Locked out by you from sharing our grief, I know no where to go for mine. Nature’s strength not aiding me nor social convention supporting me I bury this despair within the ever melancholic cauldron of my dysfunctional emotional turmoil. Slowly slipping my fingers from yours, I rise with a heavy heart to leave you, as requested, with no answer but to seek my release and solace from the bottom of a glass.