Thursday 23 March 2017

A few million steps
That is all it is now, fore was a few though
Yet from what it was to is
An eon has passed
By, yes
Two of me
Reluctant and for
Lost to such a long conflict
And the war is over
Unsubscribed,
Yet with bloodied hands
The reluctant died
The for, wanders
Wide eyed
Blind and with blinders
Yet in a seek

Thursday 16 March 2017

Date night

The gentle moon light
Shimmering, glowing as a soul escaping
The metal black bird
As she breathes her last
We stand surrounded
Each hand, playing a wailing banshee
Which may merge me with lead
I wouldn't know
There is one I know the allure
Fearful, but inescapable
As the dust spawned by her gentle steel blades settles
it is red beneath my feet
I have seen many moon reflect
Yet in this puddle
Of my own ruby pool
It seems to look as flawless
Spotless, serene, kind, gentle
I fall to my knees, resting my back to her
The gentle bird behind is ready now
So am I
She and I ready to be embers
In this final night out
Of a warm winter night
I close my eyes

Wednesday 1 March 2017

If the mirror doesn't moisten
I shall be glad
For that would mean I am away forever
Beyond the torment
Beyond the reach
Of mortal feelings and morbid craving
When the fingers don't curl
Where the eyes don't blink
In Dante's imagination
Home, as I would call it
For I have lived in one
In your absence
Or maybe in your existing absence
Who would know
I would, but who would I be
For neither in life nor in its absence
Shall I be
In your company
Fitting, ah Poetic Justice
To sleep in the boughs of oblivion

Flowering dreams

In my myriad thoughts
Often of just knowing
If you remember my name
I would wish for more
Yet, it is far fetched
For my destiny is to be
In my own company
But as a human
I still seem to long
For not much as most do
But as little as a sunflower does
Face the sun as it rises
Wither away at some point
Following
Though to the sun, it is but routine
Yet I seek an acknowledgement
Knowing it shall be nothing
Nothing more than a psychedelic dream
But the sunlight has 7
I have only 4
With that thought I rest
Shackled to my own
In absence, forlorn
Scattered to winds.