Via Daily Post WPC: Windows
No doctor, you can’t fathom the
Depth of this wound which,
Runs through my soul and
The blood smeared ball of muscle with
Both of which carry deoxygenated blood.
I have little hope from,
You, and the philanthropists who,
Offer to stitch my heart severed into two.
No doctor, I don’t doubt that,
You can’t heal my wound and
Also, a local anaesthesia wouldn’t do.
Via Daily Post: Local
I found you in the middle of chaos,
Hidden behind a sparkling veil of gloom,
You stirred my tinted glass soul,
An enigma I’d never before known.
Your gaze, a melodious requiem,
Coldly cryptic, unlike a Sunday hymn.
I thwarted my butterfly coloured senses,
And sped towards your cindery heart,
Knew all too well that I would lie,
Beneath the worm eaten earth, when you part.
You beckoned me like an evil temptation,
I was too dazed to halt,
Suspended my noisy rationale,
I was morbidly enthralled.
Time stopped in our darkened orb,
Our roses paler than bloodied thorns,
I gave in and called it love,
Adorned with desire your world forlorn-
Or so I felt.
Because the cold, dark night of our certitude,
Lay in the open all along,
Mocking at illusions of delight-
To you, I never belonged.
You gouged out my spirit and,
Drops of life leaked away…
But delusions never fail me.
So I pledge to find another way-