Free Verse
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Once, we werelike devils, plummetinginto the Hell of each other’s arms,swarmed with heat,like a desert where nothinghad ever quenched usin our even thirst. We could have come upto see the sun, to observewhere we could run,holding each other close, but we werewailing like infants,roped in, dying withinterminal in what we began,whenever it ended. We have
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A set of dying eyescrumbling, like worn paper.Old news, for another dayin leaving droplets of dark inkas another messagefor an infinite, despairing world,rotates in all blank footsteps, while none can calm aches –those sores of a man without his cane,his last limb to plod another course,a path of an unknown mile. Dark vision has been
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Once I saw what gleamed, untilI only saw what dreamed. One darkrealization, never before rubbed,smeared, left under curtains; there, as a disguise to the daylightwith the misery.He wanted his chains broken,his mask torn off,left with the bandages, his skin,the nakedness of honesty. He dreamed under a glaze,a stir from a heavy heart.He hoped during the
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Sometimes, all to ever dois to never answer youthe way I would if you grewbeside me, on the days throughmeadows laced in morning dew. What is there to do,besides refrain from fulfilling you?Your kisses would be bandages,your eyes, distant puddlesin a forest where roots explorethe sadness of depth. You will venture to heal,with a motive
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The warmth never left.The fire was never out.A spark had kept it,the hearth, of my yearning.The dreams just ache,while the closer I crawlmakes me wander inside therotting reflectionin a mirror. The skies always breakopen, with the clouds fellingthe contents of a void.A walk on a grim path,feeding the birds this remorse,while waiting for sunset. Someone
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Night glows withall the eternity withfutures stretched acrossfarewells and saddestoceans. Day slows inpain, and gusts infrom the windows toyour eyes, your fallen rain,without shelter. All the funerals stopwhile the hearts slow,while the nights breathe withgrief, in the sighs. All the footsteps turn home,hands bang against wallslike doors of strangers, – though this is familiar. This
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He hates, with a mindthat remembers nothingbut the song.The dirge in the distanceto longest locks dressed overa casket of an empire.Her face, the shortest disgrace,set above a form of broken twigs. Her relief in her last breathhad swept a curtain over her.Her face is keptwith the same brittle tearsas sap to the sleeping tree. Fires
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I was always wrongTo silence myself where I belong.As you are far behindIn each teardrop that fades,As all rain is never savedFrom its fall, its decline.You did not want to – Want to die,Living upon the crying smile.You were sincere in each word,While winter kept you thirstingTo know if I was listening. I do listen,Smiling
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It is a pathwayUpon another, to a gatewayFor another, towards her arms.A challenge with no alarmWith the tears that runTo wake a man to the sun. Someone says to the final wordThat the shadows are all brokenWith the fade of her.A longing to a passage, a scripture,One fault, alone in the winter. One chance, to
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Walking backwards on a trail,Smothered footprints set this sailOn the road to find you coveredIn history’s faces and ashes,Weeping through a blank smile,Keeping Saturn wringing your throat – Fatal in the sound for what ropesItself around each changing complexion,To your cruelest resurrection. You wish to lose all,Bending daylight into the fall.For a face in the
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Crippled, in ashes,Turned to dust at the signOf teeming hope.At once,Bright as the North StarLeading you, through.My reaching arms as boughs,Keeping you from falling through. Tears trail,Connective and unending.All at once,Loose petals are tossedAcross your delicate cheeks. Tears walkIn the presence of the moon,Still apparent to you.Tears speakFrom tongue and cheek. Among the dustFalling from
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ClockwiseTowards the directionOf your sunset,Of yourBelieving in the afterlife,Before the journeyDivides its mileBetween us. The less likelyThe pain shall discover usOnce more, without the caress,Without the shellTo take usBeneath where winter freezesThe trees into shadows – As we loseInfinite breathOn the shapeshifting pathways,On the curving highwaysDrinking the evening’s meltFor waters we once knewWere there, when
Modern Romanticism 