I do not have the luxury you see,
A foreign soul in this ancient continent
to dance my wiles away.
See my worries accompany me as i sip this drink….
The hopes of my parents sidle next to me,
intertwining their aching fingers with mine, drowning all else as i try to loose myself in this dance.
My only escape,
Your mouth on mine…breath on skin…sweet respite.
i do not have the luxury to linger in this sweet place…
For i am burdened by my parents prayers
dragged even to the concrete jungle.
for you see, my respite has no place here,
in this foreign continent i tread on.
I will make of these weary bones,
creaking and fragile to the touch,
sweet melodies from beyond Valhalla.
Music of life shall i make from the embers of Death;
conjuring sweet poetry from these ashes
to sate you.
From these cinders,
will your soul will get its fill.
within these embers,
ambrosia shall burst forth.
I have learned to wade into the shallow waters of pain.
To recognize my reflection in its murky waves
letting my body, weighless to its power
surrender to this undulating will
I bare witness as my ego sinks to the bottom,
feeding the ravenous hunger that fill it
dying a little from this unwanted surrender.
I claw at life,
searching for respite.
Hoping against these insistent waters
to find revival in its depth.
for nourishment to fill my soul, in this place
Here i lay with my home;
watching the dawn kiss the earth, ‘rousing it from slumber.
playing the fool…waiting
for the night to fall that i may lay;
with this darkness,
this place i call home
allowing our sins spill over into the silent hours of dawn
I’d always known your ugliness lay beneath the surface;
Now i sit across from you
witnessing and pleasuring in your undoing;
watching as that veneer of charisma is ripped like the earth
to unravel the very depth of your ugliness.
I watch in glee
as your very words reveal the darkness that you tried to feed me
And i breathe for with each layer peeled,
i finally see my beauty
“Her shame had found a way to latch itself upon her most enticingly;
sliding into the caverns of her mind,
intertwining their pinions into her body,
till her spirit implored redemption’s hands upon her soul;
redemption from the oppression of this Shame that had become her very reflection”
She was stilled by it….
“Those unrelenting loathsome tendrils that caressed her so,
etching themselves on and under her skin,
like the lustful fingers of her lover.
The tragedy laden words
dove beneath the surface ever so freely,
Claiming her frivolous existence
Words that whispered untrue things,
so severe were the words
till her knees quaked from the temerity of it all”