Sweet, delicious bramble fruit;
So wild, untameable and free,
Made from darkest red bubbles.
You give my heart troubles.
Alas you are no longer for me.

Your taste like treasure and loot;
Rich, succulent, quenching juice
Made from the nectar you bear,
A flavour so wonderfully rare.
Woe now i must pull you loose.

Staunch, resilient blackberry root;
Diving deep in the soil,
Spikes guarding above and under.
Now I work to tear you asunder,
A labour with which i toil.

After, the earth burnt as soot;
Tears turning all to mud,
A scene horrifyingly full of gore.
I am lost, broke, beaten and sore,
Hands raw with blood.

Everywhere i look,
All that i can see,
The time it has took,
Reminding always me,
Like a mental hook,
Haunting my memory,
Stuck in every nook,
Tragic number three.

Today i see spiders gliding on their silk strings.
One more thing that causes me to think of you.
Now i lie down to watch
The sunset – yellow, white and blue.