I have a lamp, with broken neck.
It bows its bulbous head.
A gleaming, leaning, seeming wreck,
what would, of it, be said?
Speak of its comfort given,
on dark and stormy night,
or, to same darkness driven,
to keep it from our sight.
No shade, to hide the shame,
been placed upon its head.
In each self place the blame,
and bow those heads, instead.
Does not each have its purpose?-
these damaged, broken things?
Look beyond the surface,
and know the light it brings.
I am not the beating of a heart
I am that pause in between
I am longing for the life
In feverish anticipation, I wait
In fearful frustration, hesitate
I am not the inhale, or the exhale
I am that pause in between
I neither take, nor release
My body is a coffin,
A dead man's morbid peace
And, upon a new tomorrow,
I will lie within and wallow,
Here, inside the hollow,
Of tomorrows to come
They carry me through my days,
Pall bearers – one, by one, by one
She stood in the shadows, I remember
Blue smoke escaped, from her lips,
Her breath, as cold as December,
thoughts lost, and found 'round her hips.
Lust lurks, on the path I did stray,
amidst this abyss, and sinking still.
I followed to hollowed dismay,
and blinded my hope, and my will.
Why was it not fear that had gripped me?
Something stirred, and emerged, from within;
a smiling darkness unzipped me,
to an end I did choose to begin.
Perfumed passion taints all of my knowing.
In its mist, I kissed the vampire.
She beguiles, with styles of showing,
and into her world, I expire.
I look upon the dawn, and greet the graying grief.
My eyes have placed it in the skies,
to survive what died beneath.
Wandering and wakened, the weary and worn -reborn
So there shall be no more ignoring
all my restless soul's exploring
for I see myself and so much more in
the roaring of the storm.
Reaching out, staring out;
I am with and not without.
Now flow from me as I become
The Storm
I Walk, In Death, Defiant by Killerion, literature
Literature
I Walk, In Death, Defiant
I emerge, from behind walls that confined.
Into the outside, I hide,
cloaked by a shadow disguise;
a thief beneath the midnight skies.
Step by step, I try to find
what this world has left,
for death's darkest theft,
taken, to be kept,
by my kind. ........
I walk:
The night, my right, my destiny,
Speaks, in spite, so bitingly.
I See:
Lightning flash, of memories,
Forgotten dust, of earth, are these.
She's Gone:
The moon glows now, so full, to burst,
And spew forth love, on those I thirst.
This Death:
Tortured, twisted, knotted trees,
Dried-up, crumbled, corpse of leaves.
This
As a Mother cries, in misery,
On this misty, wintry night,
Of death we speak, in whispers weak,
of taken by demon's flight
Her little boy, so close, now gone;
Her Hands betrayed her love so strong
Stripped from grip, still holding on
Her frozen tears greet death and dawn
Angel-wing feathers, falling from heaven -
He only wanted to see the snow
It shall fall, forever, upon the Nether,
As all the love she will ever know -
Dies with her,
Upon The Snow
So brave, the soul still marches on,
Till all that be, and been, be gone,
Till sun not seen to greet the dawn,
Till dreamless sleep shall creep upon
A gash of gloom, from womb to tomb
What good, from this, should love exhume?
A still heart cries, in desperate doom
Curled up, denied, inside my room
I deeper breathe, and hollow heart
Broke earth and bone, upon my start
Deeper, deeper, and soon depart
I rest in peace here, part by part
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I stand before a glowing white door,
No more than a form suspended
In the hold of an empty blackness,
never ended.
My vision broadens, and new forms appear,
Or do I simply notice what was always there?
My head has turned, like a doorknob, to see.
I stare down this hall, and deeper into me.
My head has turned, like a doorknob, to see.
I open myself to possibility.
I see a radiant beauty, a woman dressed in white.
I feel no warmth, but see a glow like firelight.
Raven hair and flowing dress express such loveliness,
Streaming back, in rippling waves, somehow, something less.
This fire, without warmth, and motion, without wind,
Form an empt
Fingers stretch and spread like sun-rays,
and find instead they cannot reach,
nor share again the warmth of lost days
now laid to waste upon the beach
When everything, and all was younger,
and all the known was novice new,
my longing heart was filled with hunger,
and the dark that crept inside was few
A song of truth, in my youth, was calling
for the loves of my life I had yet to know
Never before was there fear of falling,
but, fallen, I fade, still and stayed -laid low.
This truth, that I'm forced to bear,
is not what I wish to wear.
So, free me, from it, please,
the whole of what she sees.
It's a hole I can't escape from,
as she tends to adding weights on.
Each word, absurd, forms shackles,
as every clock tick tackles,
bringing me down, bringing me down,
taking me down.
This truth, that I'm forced to bear,
is not what I wish to wear.
All the ugly things that be,
She projects them onto me,
like a movie that replays
each wrong that belongs, and stays,
like me, always there, and why?
Lost to the cost I paid with my
heart and soul, and all that I had,
as each good thing had turned to to bad.
So now, I am kept i