Without?

Pt: 2 to Within?


Without?

Your silence stabs blindly through my soul.
A resolution had been quelled,
and now only insurgent flash fires roiled,
scattered about confused minds.

Duty overcame nostalgia
rightfully you over a cliff
and into eyes that thought
impossible schemes, feeble minds only fathom.

What lay within your fantastic machine.
What secrets had you kept from us?
Is our fate sealed with you judgment?
Without speaking, you answered a quiet, "yes."

There is no future,
only a truth of impending disaster.
Our quiet war had been won,
before the dream had begun.

But will we go quietly into the dark?
Can we fight the void?
With my voice, still from screaming..
"Open your eyes!"

Is there a will to find a way?
Or am I grasping at straws,
praying for an answer?
With no trace of salvation?

Within?

This is a poem in two parts. I wrote this a long time ago and then re-did it with a new twist. As the original, this is about something that I love with intensity... those who truly know me can follow the clues and figure out what it is. And I do warn, it is short... but makes a point.

Within?

Coursing in the veins,
is an alien notion, unknown to me.
Your eyes stare- glossed and blank,
no more living than ghost.

What sees beyond those eyes?
An unthinking puppet, with strings invisible?
What spirit lay within an empty shell,
who are you?

My legs quiver under the weight
of my wavering willpower.
Is my mind capable of turning a gun,
to smite the thing that was once you?

What heart beats behind that casket?
Is it devoid of the compassion and pride
that once pulsed with an unrelenting duty?
Fading to black - I see no shreds of your dignified insolence.

Parallel with my shivering visage,
your words cut deep my senses..
Would your crusade now perish with the words,
"Everything Dies"?

And in frantic desperation,
I claw to grasp back what you stole.
You clutched, stalwart- the missing link.
The only key of which we can save ourselves.

You can get away with anything~

Hah.. I got into a conversation with my boss yesterday about serial killers and such... uhm odd, I know. I wanted it to seem kind of like a mix of my usual with some conversational tones. I guess I went for a story poem thing.

So Long as it Looks Accidental

My lady!
You came as a spectre in black,
your fingers cold like the chilled air.
Your breath was like ice forced into veins.
A gentle drug in conscious guilt.
"Poor thing! She was such a beauty!"
The maester spoke to the coroner.
"They said they found her head opened in the alley below."
Because you see.
"This wasn't the first time, oh no."
"Just mere days before they say they found the body of local Ms. Stacey."
And what a shame her small children would never be the same.

But they can tell you this for certain.
All the girls stepped lighter, indeed-indeed.
"They looked over their shoulders, scoping for me."
Because you see, as he sat alone on a park bench,
he took note of his prey by peering over the edges of his newspaper.
"Who would suspect! That all these little girls hurt themselves."
And then the maester. What if there was foul play?

Because you see,
if it looks like you're on their side- they won't suspect you.
And if it's just a tragic accident, they can't catch you.
But they called out the maester,
"Sorry sir, we may need to ask you just a few questions."
And so he'd look so shocked,
"It's just formality, we need you as a material witness."
They called it a travesty! A fall from grace-
he who was sworn to protect hid away savage delight.
Murder was it?
"Oh no! Oh no! Don't get me wrong! They just fell down."
All it was, was an accident.
"But how can you explain how many of them died so suddenly?"
the coroner spoke to the maester.
"Well you see, they were only accidents. A grave, unfortunate fate, indeed."
"Of course, of course."
"And not to mention how beautiful they were."

The Wilted Blooms

I guess this is the female version of Mortal coil??? ish? I dunno...

Wilted Blooms

If I sang you to sleep,
would you fall into eternity's embrace,
with a smile upon your lips.
Preserving the finale of your thoughts.

Fear not,
as the world would stop turning
when your palms finally unfurled,
their final strength flinging summer blossoms to the wind.

You seemed all but blinded,
as slumber crept its clammy fingers
about the fair skin of your throat.
Choking out the last of your voice.

But they'd ride banners in your honor,
a lament for the decay of exuberance.
And the wilted spring of your beauty,
faded into the cold winters.

O' the cruelty of fragility,
the mourning bosks all wept,
as the land sensed your subtle corrosion.


And for mere moments your face clouded my thoughts.
Garbed in white,
your whispers told of paradise,
where the light of life prevailed the twilight.

The fires of life burned forevermore.
But grief strikes dead,
the foolish hopes and dreams,
of a fleeting happiness everlasting.

The Mortal Coil

So death has intrigued me of late.. so I have been pondering about it. As always, enjoy or don't. My motives for this one are unclear to even me. It's a little short... but...hey

The Mortal Coil

Lay me down in the softest linens.
Place two coppers upon my eyes.
Rest my weary bones
beside a crackling fire.
So my mind might think last of the light,
before night saps my very breath.

The ghosts of loss creep slowly
from my coveted resting place-
bringing sleep to a mind too tired to slumber
and a soul too tired for rest.

Lay my ship into the cold, dark waters.
And burn my funeral pyres,
to light the flames into eternity.
The smoke of death: it's too black to see,
to dense to breathe.

The dance of the macabre
had finally began in the sunset of life.
The dreaded rest had begun at last,
my eyes to flutter to sleep eternal.

And the hooded rider brought silence upon his back,
hushing the land in quiet mourning..
Dusk became its messenger,
and with it a muffled blanket descended sleep-
The fading of the light.

Some new stuffz that I have simply left in a spiral notebook and not even posted...

Painkiller

A needle in my veins
and the searing burn,
melted away into fluidity and cold.
And the pain seeped into the numbness of not.

Even the fires of lacerations
bled away into the white
as the absence of feeling
brought me from the brink.

A monotonous, droning siren
pierced into my consciousness to a pained wakening.
I was only alive as much as I could think,
a cadaver with a pulse.

The shadows spoke their serpentine tone,
but my voice uttered no words.
I was trapped within my own soul,
no more living than a flat line.

Profiles danced in the periphery,
and my fingers reached for their visage.
But they all faded away,
like rays of light in the breeze.

If I could feel the wind on my face,
or be blinded by the sunlight-
maybe the shadows would take form
and I would awake from the prison of mortality.

A Song of Sorrow

So...........

Fuck Tumblr. I do not like it in the least, and though blogger has less traffic - blogger fits my needs better. So I begin posting some new musings. Enjoy, maybe. Dunno how this came to mind. It's been sitting in my book for a while. As always, unedited.

A Song of Sorrow

A song of sorrow,
senses the beauty behind the tears.
There's no hope in your eyes,
a face strained with sweet agony.

But won't you dance once more,
to the sound of your dying heart's drum?
Or would you beg to die alone,
so despair swallows only one?

The deluge would drown,
away the rolling lands with your salted tears.
The heart you had just begun to feel,
crumbled away like dust in your palms.

And as you bled away
into a self loathing rapture clothed in black-
my hand was last to out reach you,
begging to return you to life never yet to live.

Healing the scars infused in flesh,
was to take the thorns of your affection-
to rub torture into open wounds.
You cried out for ignored remorse.

A song of sorrow,
that darkness laid eyes upon.
Hope became the end of suffering,
that was granted as we walked apart.