Days pass but not empty of your thought
(18-10-12)
Your accustomed winter chills my blood
Freezing the snow covered chambers of this heart
Your pain like smoke chokes my breath
Your unceasing darkness clouding & drowning me under
to an unseen world
The bleeding scars reminisce a rose rend by it's own
thorn
See that blood sweep over the sheath of my love?
I now carry it's stain, the very substance of your life!
Kiss me so I can live, or kill me so I can die,
Leave me not in this misery of owning you & possessing
nothing.
2 comments:
“Being realistic is the most commonly travelled road to mediocrity.” Will Smith
Your prose poems are anything but mediocre even if they are veiled in a beautiful mystery.
Russel: You make my heart sing! TY! :)
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