I often wonder why she fled
the purple-drenched sky.
An osprey cried “Let us pray”
I tried but nothing came out.
Grey caverns swallowed my soul,
she rolled ‘neath her headstone,
a subtle tone wrang in my head.
The bird then warbled a dirge
while I was on the verge
of following my love into tomorrow,
thus forever ending my sorrow.
Hamlet’s debate would seal my fate
one way or another.
And as the osprey sped away
I wondered if I’d live
to see another day.
Oh sacred stone, what mysteries have you beheld?
I held the history of the earth in my palm.
Like a Psalm of the Creator’s majesty
it was unbearably sublime.
Time alone forged its character,
nature may have molded its face;
but only the Infinite could make a thing from nothing.
I marvelled at this miracle for a moment,
then launched it toward the lake.
It skipped the water but twice;
Wild whipping wind, roar of the beast.
Planet born of sin, sacrificial feast.
Nature’s catastrophic rage unleashed.
Homes crumble like brittle twigs.
Mercy? No hope this storm brings.
Crashing, thrashing force of destruction;
unabated hatred knows no obstruction.
And just that fast,
the tempest passed.
Bloody. Broken. Every breath inducing pain.
As she cringed in a corner, no love remained.
He was sorry. Said he’d never do it again.
Although he left her weeks ago
she simply cannot let him go.
The calls and texts come day and night;
this tunnel has no end, no light.
She’s addicted to the pain;
pheromones bewitch her brain.
The ecstasy when they kissed,
all the glorious joy she missed.
She can’t forget his gentle touch
or that laugh she loved so much.
No – her iron will will never bend.
Her desperate longing won’t ever end.
I meant what I said
get out of my head.
Run away instead
or you’ll end up dead.
Like trees touching sky
keep your hands held high.
Make a move you die.
How dare you ask why?!?
Birds may fly away,
never will I say
please come back and stay.
That’s just not my way.
You are a disgrace.
Can’t you read my face?
You’ve fallen from grace.
Leave and leave no trace…
In an instant the distance dissolves;
the violent violets flooding my id explode
and the prism of my heart cannot refract the haze.
The days of languishing in the anguish amidst the nebula of my soul
are nearly done – for I am undone.
I yearn to break free from this melancholy madness,
for me this is an unholy sadness.
I am trapped between the moon and sun
hopelessly longing for an eclipse
I know will never come…
Unforgiving bleakness –
a frigid wind that lives to torment.
All the leaves have fled,
leaving only naked trees to stand against the grayness.
Winter’s harsh gloom stubbornly remains;
and the distant sun refrains from sharing its warmth.
The cruelest season is upon us.