Some More, Even Older Poetry

Try and ignore the angst people, this is early work...

This Is Your Heart on Loss

Within burns a fire that grows but never dies
Pumped through the heart's furnace out the windows of the eyes
Projecting the soul to flicker on the skies
And it soars and it shouts its song as it flies
Its melody piercing the lip service and lies
Tearing through masks and all forms of disguise
Until it’s halted by one who echoes its cries

There is a soul within that drowns in its pain
The storm raging its way through the heart and the brain
Falling in torrents of unmerciful rain
Bone searing winds shepherd clouds of what’s sane
Emotion striking the mindscape, igniting a stain
A patch of darkness defying thought’s reign
Loss howling through treetops as hope circles the drain

Within broods a darkness that’s relieved by no light
Weighing down on the soul and stealing its flight
Its song warped and returned in mocking delight
Protests ignored as it’s wrapped up in night
The greenery of living overtaken by blight
Casting dimly about for a reason to fight
Searching blindly through blackness for what’s wrong and what’s right

There is scar tissue now where the pain used to be
The tempest moves on; calm returns to the sea
Leaving in its wake rebirth and debris
Fuel for the rekindling of a fire now free
To feel and and to live, now able to see
That in life both the light and the darkness agree
The storm of experience carves out the image of Me.


The Death of a Poet

Giving and sharing,
But always abuse.
Since when did “human” become an excuse?
Searching for light,
Their eyes never show it.
The dark shades today,
The death of a poet.

Silenced by sound
Voice lost in the crowd
Though somehow the lack, it screams just as loud
I can answer no why
I can give no because
As the proclaimed I am
Becomes a resounding I was.


Love Mercenary

To keep it from her hands,
He puts up his heart for hire.
Struggling to heal his burns
While he is still on fire.
The highest bidder takes his love,
His price is to forget.
But though he seldom sleeps alone,
His price is never met.

Broken hearts litter his wake,
As he sails his tortured course.
Running from his memories,
He storms on without remorse.
Her eyes gaze out from countless faces,
Their features fading into her.
Desperate, he tries to clear his vision,
But he can’t dispel the blur.

Weary now he scans the field,
Soil stained with love now dead.
Yearning deep within his soul,
That someone'd fight for him instead.