Poetry
-
How long until Heaven holds usWithin wings that can shelterOur oldest night?We have beauty racing everywhere,Where majesty falls,As love can be for the shine upon the templeThat says,“Tomorrow is forever.”How can love die?How can it? You were toldThat death could ceaseAll things to be.You were toldThat our eyes cannot seeThe dreams that can one day…
-
I crawlFrom graves that remindMe, of the agonyThat took you, alive.As I acheI will remain to breakWith arms that squeeze the lifeFrom me,As I saw youWith eyes that failed the sunlight,And a heart that was lostIn the plummeting dark. Like two steps aroundYour carved, broken heart,I fell alongThe stingThat fate brings. I see what love…
-
Reveal to meWhat can fall throughSilver clouds, and silver moon.Reveal to meAll I can catch for the timeless chordsChiming until the meadow’s end.For when you reveal to meYour eyes black as the night,I know you cannot reveal to meThe little things we both cried for. Reveal to meYour bosom for the consumptionOf Heavenly droplets of…
-
To those who would fail you,Realize the wordIn that I love you.For why your rain stops,I have caught tearsIn hands that have shared yours,Beside the lakes where dreamsCan be extinguished,Where liesCan be made our agonies.I have held youIn worlds apart. Sickness and rain,While life grows from a fragile teardrop,There is the here,As here is the…
-
The funeral strikes the hour,As I waltz pastThe raining petalsThat do not,RepeatingDo notBurn, nor tearApart, at their solaced shower. Her hair falls back, lifeless,Never againTo be brushed by the hand,My hand,Facing the floor,Soaring towards the naked shoreWhere eyes can glimpse my stroking tears. I had loved,Meagerly loved,Simply lovedThe rose gathered amongstAll these forgotten petals.Her face,A…
-
Weaken your eyes,Face your tears,Consume your own fears,Oh, yearning woman.The House of GodHas condemned youUpon the marriage to divorce,Upon the union with derangement,With wilted roses gathered in armsUp towards the altar.You clean yourselfWith showers of pity. You are the petalClung to the needless stem,For you desire a thorn. You have tears growing from your eyes,Drinking…
-
Why light,WhySo bright?What have I burnedOf the stilled tomorrow?Her hair radiates,Her skinEscalates, the tempest,Me,And the fuses at the endsOf herWorn fingers. BeautySmiles, one of heavinessTo myAching body.Her ownEclipses what I see of light,So bright,With giants to every step,Every encroaching hourTo my feeble sight. Lead on,My womanWhose arms crawl,Whose legs drag,Though still remains beautifulTo even the…
-
I cannot tellWhich part of the night with starsLeads me to Heaven,Or withers me to Hell.I dream of drinks,Of chalices full of tears,Full of another’s blood.There, to the winds that carryThe scent of a funeral’s pyre,I effort myself to loathe,Never to love. Dreams can tell apart,Day from night.And I,With hollowness to every scar,Stare into the…
-
White-petaled coversOver a mattress, made of blackVelvet,Caressing the back of one pallid beauty.Her dreams come as nightmares,Wading as the furnaceTo heat her face, pound her heart,Receding time like the grayest oceanTo a former shore. Just a dead love,That wed too quickly,And died too helplessly.TearstainsMock the song of the future,While bleaknessTreasures weakness. Unceasing painTo the woman…
-
Glares of rust,As my hands sift past curtainsBlocking memories from neededIntrusion.My fault becomes evident,A quieted beliefOf some Spirit, full of Holiness,Radiant in wherever Temple was builtTo house this guiltOf sin, immortal,Of loathing, endlessOf those dripping at the endOf a stained blade. My life,Woeful,As my wifeLies crippled in blanketing fears.Why memories mustTurn fault to the glaring…
-
Like cradles,TeeteringWithout their silenced infants,I am in the bitterness of retirementAway from a darkness,Into a light.Like the words I craft from sinister hands,Like the faces I conjure from a weathered mind,Misery follows. She has her hands sunk in the ocean,Lifting waves.For her pale arms ride from the moonTo the limitless sands,Beneath departureOf tides that carry…
-
Came as a ghost,She did,For I falter before the ivory altar,And sing out,Cry out, my hollowness to God.The ring was not set,As the grave was never metWith many tears enough to growThe fondest flower, from below. I recite all I know,I give all I can bestowTo the unforgiving might of emptiness.My heart has neverLashed me…
Modern Romanticism 