A stroke of red in my pristine canvas,
The hue of ripe cherry hung in shame,
Envious of the shade I conjured for my amour,
Rich and heady, a desirous madness.
I was a wild rose tamed in his garden,
He gave me freedom in his fortified palace,
Told me I was timeless; fondling my age,
Deluding me from the sincere irony.
Velveteen Mel lies dripping lips of life,
Feeding my heart; sweet viscous barbs,
Every time it lanced; I mistook it for a stitch,
Heedless to the cries of my nerve endings.
Sensuous snipping of cords that mattered,
My trembling hands aiding his cause,
I clenched my teeth, smile-caging pain,
He carved my heart pulsing with words.
The coercive tears clenched my chin,
Daring me to seek help from my kin,
I implored the sky in silent outcry,
The answer was a preposterous warcry.
Burning stars; appeared twinkling,
to our pathetic, apparent eyes,
Who asketh their agonized cry?
Their muted dispute up in the sky,
Pockmarked moon; gambled your eyes,
Flaunting his stolen shine; Eloping at night,
Blasphemous craterous love of Lady Light,
Granule by granule he burned; for her light.
An Exquisite dream of the creator I was,
The girl who feverishly dreamed in words,
I married my thoughts and eloped afar,
Nursing feelings, our child; in my chest.
The lullaby I sang knew no end,
I heard the impatient knell ringing for my end,
My thoughts betrayed me to mistress fear.
I trembled, clutching my child to my chest,
A world full of props, yet none could stop,
A maze full of the lane, yet not one to escape,
Was I, so easy a dream to be forgotten?
Abandoned to the predators of nightmare.
When death embraced my lamenting soul,
I writhed and squirmed, unwilling to go,
No one liked to be held by him, yet,
He came for everyone when all else left.
He breezed through the void flesh,
Reaching my mid-rib where the cradle lay,
He palmed the warmth where my child once lay,
The essence of my being no one cared.
He exited through my eyes, a last wink,
And placed my warmth among the nebula;
The fertile womb of the nectareous cosmos,
With a Satisfied smile of an ethereal artist.
Is death so scarier than hearts that hide ?
Is death so sinful than the pretense of love ?
Is death a death than the killed feelings of heart ?
Is death so cruel than the silence of truth ?
Death is God, a complex simplicity ,
Hidden by the opaque infidel perceptions,
Untouched by the uncouth judgements,
Impalpable by the shallow gutters.
Death is birth.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Obsessed. Any thoughts ??
I am not giving topic credits to fly2live
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Nefelibata- The rants of a cloud-walker
PoetryA restless logophile's logbook of rants. 🗣 When words and visuals pound my head I seek my hero/fountain pen to lasso them down on a paper. 📓✍ But when life gives me wattpad, I might as well type them out to share with you all readers. 🤷♀️❤ Star...
