Creative Writing
-

Keep swimmingIn this breathYou have tried to loosen pastThe debris upon the shore,Upon the spacesBeneath your blackened eyes. You weepWith cruelty to your sleep.Every feverish dreamSinks you deepThrough memories, to keep. This wallowingYou perform, in your banquetUpon sculpturesOf destroyers,Leaves you open,Swallows you, broken. I kneelNear to your decaying form,While petals surroundOf the sameLacking taste. Can…
-

WadeFor what is believedTo find meaning in streamsPushed down on pallid cheeks,UnleashedOut of contemplative staresTo the moorsWhere mists will gleam a starAs the last,Before night decays. Erosion,Sleep deprivationsFrom the cradling arms of one,Made into threads,Bare with love.She smiled from a weeping face,Losing symmetry in each tear,Wasting the fateful yearsToiling in her fears. WatchingFrom beneath,Where the…
-

Love’s unused bandageFor the leaking woundUpon protected flesh,To awake to thundering sadnessOf a one, weeping at a bedside,Staining handsWith the rain of guilt,Dismembered from their mind. Love shows a path,As life leaves a trailTowards bitter ends,Among ecstatic smiles. We weep the tearsFor those behind, to findThe sufferings we tookTo taste, as wine. WalkingWith love buried,…
-

While the trees still stand,As the wind entersTo quiver the leaves.While Winter dies on a slopeWhere the faintest glimpse of warmthPeers through the final frost,As a babe through its mother’s shawl. While love holds a candleWithin hands, that do trembleAs leaves in the stain of Autumn.While summer heatsFor the lust of lovers, entering deepThrough waters,…
-

BlossomedCrater,Full of smog to renewalOf eyes, in Mother EarthWho criesA tear, left to be ignored. A heartDriven to find SpringIn the deepest shapes,The broadest colors,Capturing sublime decadenceBeyond the curtainTo the everything, within. Call her near,Mother Earth who sinks in Winter,That she might see her sceneryArranged in hair,Ringed on fingersWithered to the fate of dismissal. Keep…
-

It cannot endBy how we die,Holding blankets as tightlyAs we do with roses,Slicing palms with the venomOf thorns.What comfortCan shield the ailingAnd betrayed heart? We cannot spillEnough to feel the passingOf the releaseOf life, to the teardropsLeft to raise the smallest orchard,Left to constrain the smallest footstepTo lead us forward. It rains during our sunrise,As…
-

Measure feelingThat is crossed by a sealingOf a heart, upon the currentsThat fall from decaying eyes. We swarm ourselvesWith the faintest lies,Call ourselves debrisWithout coming to see,Without coming to believeIn what did leave. Death topples towersThat bloodied hands surely built.We sign the marks of braveryTo enter war, to entertain slavery. We loveIn the remaining grief,While…
-

TranslateThe thicknessAround your eyes.Smother your discomfortWith ease and surrender,For defeat to shedAshes to your toes. Dance with the deepest sighsTo plume from reddest lips.Give finalityTo each falling grace.Grab your basketFull of the scenery you plucked,To birth taste, from your tears. Drunk on sorrows,Amorous with your fears.Laid there, not curvingTo the unkind memoriesThat leave you open.…
-

ConcealedStain, upon the blank shore,Where your mouth was.A singular kissDrawn to the sand,Crawling to the land,Flown freeFrom unfolded hands. Simplest imageryOf unbroken symmetry.Symbols of languageBled from bandaged hearts.Sickness and disuseOf bodies severely limpingBackwards, on a ropeTo dual helpless faces. You can createThe sentencesFor our distant recollection,Placing eyes to the falling skies,Leaking sin from our pores.By…
-

Able to hear the whispersBlown from kissesAcross a feeble lake,Full of your tears, you onceHeld in broken arms,Leaking contagionFrom your ruined heart. It is the love,Purely the loveSwallowed as the bitter wineWith the second tasteOf sweet remembrance. Compromised memoriesAs faint petals,Long broken from the stem,Carrying still the scentOf something entrancing. Unable to resignWith the signature…
-
“Repetition is a cruel splash of the hardest hail upon our faces. Of life, where moments matter more than dreams. Of love, where sadness speaks more than the moments that indeed fade. For life, a person will always gain. For love, a person will always lose.” – Peter A.W. Wyatt