Salt my wounds with sins unheard of
Glint my eye with worlds unfurled by
light's yellowing of lust--
We shan't decline life's nectared wine
But swallow it in jest--
Nor shall we shunt waking slumber's
hours of lightning, company and Love--
Time's demise will take it nightly
and rightly follow it with kind-
Worlds- Remembrances of Old-
Gentle times that passed-
With neither sound- Nor sight-
Nor tempered fright-
Just glee and soft, centred lasting-
Peace- Plus tethered Art--
lyres and liars.
When once a foolish boy declared:
'A poet is what I shall be!'
His friends and kin rejoiced and flared,
'Son, read your books and we shall see'.
'But Ma, Pa - I know all I need,
for this drunken gent in the street
has already granted me the deeds -
Big words and a heart that forever bleeds'.
'A poet is what I shall be!'
His friends and kin rejoiced and flared,
'Son, read your books and we shall see'.
'But Ma, Pa - I know all I need,
for this drunken gent in the street
has already granted me the deeds -
Big words and a heart that forever bleeds'.
aesthetics so pathetic.
Aching - A girl so wanted -
A smile of ashen Gold -
An empty world - Scented -
With Her fragrance - Of beauty Untold -
Yet - Peel away - The mask -
Unveil - A sardonic sentiment -
For - Beauty was ne'er meant to last -
Just to - O'erflow - Shallow essence -
A smile of ashen Gold -
An empty world - Scented -
With Her fragrance - Of beauty Untold -
Yet - Peel away - The mask -
Unveil - A sardonic sentiment -
For - Beauty was ne'er meant to last -
Just to - O'erflow - Shallow essence -
dappled cowslip dullards.
They engulf my mind by the minute
Resounding amid a vacuum of Bliss
Twice destructive as man or religion
Thrice moreso as love's stolen kiss
Proffering nought but illusion
Quaking our once sturdy earth
Deriding nostalgia's blithe memories
'Tis thoughts alone that ground all the hurt.
Resounding amid a vacuum of Bliss
Twice destructive as man or religion
Thrice moreso as love's stolen kiss
Proffering nought but illusion
Quaking our once sturdy earth
Deriding nostalgia's blithe memories
'Tis thoughts alone that ground all the hurt.
"life is just something that happens while you're busy trying to find access to a loaded gun"
togetherness a synonym for "666"
marriage a mirage
'forever' a torturous death knell
screeching "sex, sex, sex"
anything to allay the barrage
marriage a mirage
'forever' a torturous death knell
screeching "sex, sex, sex"
anything to allay the barrage
Lost
I painted a picture of heartache
It bore a tide of hurt.
Brush strokes of inertia, overwhelming
Soul's hardships inflaming my world.
I sculpted Her face from the ashes
A stark science that once lit the way,
That naked new beauty now vanished
The last of my facade forever fading away.
Why does my mind carve out these heartrbreaks
Sultry at first, til I dare to venture
Into a mirage that mimics a mindset
Desperate to touch a love it was ne'er meant for.
It bore a tide of hurt.
Brush strokes of inertia, overwhelming
Soul's hardships inflaming my world.
I sculpted Her face from the ashes
A stark science that once lit the way,
That naked new beauty now vanished
The last of my facade forever fading away.
Why does my mind carve out these heartrbreaks
Sultry at first, til I dare to venture
Into a mirage that mimics a mindset
Desperate to touch a love it was ne'er meant for.
maddened majesty.
The pain without the calvary
Heaven's plenty enough for me
What waking worlds crease when encumbered
with sweet and true austerity
What devils dare to duel
for such a simple prize as soul sans sanity
Ought angels fear their virtue?
To clear a telling tale of all its wealth
to cleanse a heart of age, all bent on reverie
To stand upright amid disaster
to grim within the knell
while grilling peers for exits
To saunter into pain unfazed
aceepting all the forfeits
I'd CENSOR art for your foreign touch
for your gay and lasting gaze
I'd enter into perils unplanned
if it would arrest your heart's demise.
Heaven's plenty enough for me
What waking worlds crease when encumbered
with sweet and true austerity
What devils dare to duel
for such a simple prize as soul sans sanity
Ought angels fear their virtue?
To clear a telling tale of all its wealth
to cleanse a heart of age, all bent on reverie
To stand upright amid disaster
to grim within the knell
while grilling peers for exits
To saunter into pain unfazed
aceepting all the forfeits
I'd CENSOR art for your foreign touch
for your gay and lasting gaze
I'd enter into perils unplanned
if it would arrest your heart's demise.
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