Lost, but not Forgotten

Everyone… This is a long awaited promise, I made to my departed, but never forgotten mother Ellen. I love you and I kept ‘the gift’ she wanted me, to share with the world. I hope it is watched and enjoyed.. Thank you, world for the opportunity, to fulfill a little girl’s “DREAM”.

The Invisible Shadow

The laughter silenced
at the grave
as his heart, became depraved.
The wickedness of his ways
were followed by a trail
of tears to be shed,
as they silently lie their head.
The terror in their dreams
carry sleepless nights of fright
as their loved ones
must have seen
in the hands
of the ‘unclean’.

Disheartened Heart

Does the heart, capture the mind?

Or the mind, capture its heart?

Only, when it’s broken, apart.

Leaving it unprotected,

in the wake, of such a beautiful start.

“Why?”

Why, must it bleed; for common sense, to take lead?

And then, dauntingly avail itself, of another?

A crumbling road much traveled,

seemingly unrelented.

Revokes its promise,

within its many steps

taken.

Unalone

“What to do; when the soul speaks

And no one wants to listen?!”

    When the fountain, thirsts for knowledge

and the seers of certainty; close their eyes to weep.

When the mountains of emotions can’t hold back;

    The secrets that they keep.

Escape to your surrender, rely upon the past,

chase the echoes of wisdom.

Reinvite their ghosts: Precursor of the path,

   Breathe their words, within your soul.

And quiet the unrest.

Passion paints a silhouette of the “Unalone, alone mirrored self.” 

Love’s bloody Soul

She roamed, the thunderous streets

with an insipid heartbeat.

Masking the sound

of her own breathless trail.

Screams in the night;

searched for the freedom,

she’d felt, she’d found in his arms.

Whatever; deep within,

the shadows of her love.

The rain of blood

did pour,

once more.

Prisoner of the indebted soul,

smoldering the moonlit glow.

If she could just silence the echoes,

in the night.

If she could capture a thought,

just one.

It would keep her from coming…

undone.

 

 

The Writer

I am a mere oracle, gazing through the mist.

With the crystal ball, the characters do exist.

I observe; as they tittle and tattle, revealing their wicked intentions.

Shamelessly transfixed, a hubris filled delight.

‘For whom, shall meet their demise?’

Upon this villainous starry night, fraught with discontented unwitting souls?

A prophesy unfolds.

Foreshadow

A plethora of emotions

Flutter before my eyes

As the murderer

Stood still, A faint glance

Brought on a winter chill

I forgot, to forget, to remember

How to walk or run

As he ran his finger up the blade

I staggered for a breath

The blood trickled down his hand

I heard the sound of laughter

Released into the air

I closed my eyes, terrified

As if he weren’t there

To my horror; In the vacant street I stared

I looked, I crumbled, astounded

There was no one there

Testament

If I looked back to yesterday.

In search for tomorrow.

Will I find asylum in the future or just a gentle sorrow ?

Time is ever fleeting, rain crying out for love.

The quiet whisper of promise fills the air abound.

And then takes the place of somber without ever making a sound.

If I care see the seasons running by the bay.

What will be tomorrow, but a kiss from yesterday.

Taste the lips of future hoping for the best, when yet at a glance, you will see life has proved its only a final test.

Scuff and breath forth the breath of remembrance.

Days played out by many.

Embrace the gentil comings, take only her choice of favor, and savage the beauty of her grace, to find your life’s chamber, is the magnificence of your fate..

Ravaged Heart

Where is thine divine love?

In the bosom of another, I fear?

Dying embers, taunt mine thoughts

Frigid chill hath found,

A resting place

Darling drink, partake thine lips

Releasing unkind, the thought

Shalt I confront him

Exposing his dastardly deeds?

Or shalt I wither

In the cold nightly breeze?

 

The clocks tormenting ticks

Walk me through

The nights events

A somber tale

I shalt become

With the rising of the sun

 

Tomorrow’s morn

Paves the path of a maiden,

Such as I

Bloody bath, bayonet in hand

Shalt my shadows

Take flight and run?

With the quaking of the door

Thou knowest, surely

Minest enemies besiege

Thine own wicked heart

Hath spun a twine

And released, such a tale as mine