Cancer crawls through veins, in vicious barbarism.
It marks the wicked source, of an emotional schism.
So we dine and converse of anything eternal,
An autonomous king became paternal.
If his life was known for pacifism,
Why did death offer only cataclysm?
Maybe fate will have us meet once more,
In a different time and on a distant shore.
Dedicated to God Murphy
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Se reposer dans la paix
Poeticized by stellanoche at 8:49 PM 3 Responses
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
The Stars Don’t Go Out
The stars, well, they haven’t gone out,
Although most days I wish that they would.
They blaze through my lids like acid,
Imprinting Your face in my eyes.
Each shadow on the wall,
And every storefront reflection,
Takes Your loyal shape.
You’re always one step behind.
I awake alone and curse,
And pull at my hair as if it could remove the guilt,
Or the ache that’s resided in my throat,
Since the day I knew You were gone.
I smile and kiss the boys.
I wear a perfect mask,
To hide my absent gaze,
Although they wouldn’t care.
Poeticized by stellanoche at 12:16 AM 0 Responses
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