My Poetry: The Light Is Not Tender

The light is not tender:
the secrets
it illuminates
are not true -
least to me -
on a day like this
when sun clones,
tanned flesh bared,
wander like zombies
through the streets.
No,
the light is not tender:
block the doorways
with wood,
for my only comfort
is the storm clouds
which gather
inside my skull;
tearing at my polar opposites
rendering the night -
my favoured companion -
bringing with it
the dark
charactors which visit
as I huddle
in my shadowed corner
awaiting the necromancer
and her trusted spider
which spits truth
like venom
into my inner ear
poisoning my ego,
untill no faith
song or prayer
can keep it from death.
No,
there is no light
in a day
devoid of tenderness.

My Poetry: I Once Held Your Heart

I Once Held Your Heart

---

I once held your heart
in my hands,
now all I hold is dust,
and the rusted arrow
from cupids bow.

I once knew my future
in your touch,
now it's apaque,
with broken wails
of visceral woe.

 

                                                                                 I once believed
                                                                                   in our love,
                                                                                   now my eyes well,
                                                                                   and stomach churns
                                                                                   to think of you.

                                                                               I once promised

                                                                                with immortal words

                                                                                 what I thought I knew
                                                                                 but they now lay buried

                                                                                alongside hope.

                                                                               I once held your heart
                                                                               in mine,
                                                                                but its turned to dust,
                                                                                and cupid's rusted arrow
                                                                                  twists my sorrow.