These halls seem somewhat hollow
A certain sense of sorrow
Now graces ancient stone.
Replacing familiar faces
With defaced family paintings
And cold ancestral bones.
Thrones thrown upon a pyre.
Fate becomes the folly
Tomorrow the unknown,
The brows of time are furrowed
Past spent, lost, or borrowed
Flowers forever bloom alone.
Rats, the last lords of ruin
Rule cruel shadows from the walls.
Twilight sighs at daylight's rise
All seems dark till darkness falls.

The blood comes dilute, as if to refute
What is, or was ever at all
To challenge the must,
The is and the thus
The ever, the will, and the Fall

The Winter, the Spring, the Summer that brings
A freedom, an illusion anew
A time to recline--in dreams and unwind
The idea that you can, that you will

The will, O the will, O the untempered can
Of worms which one opens and finds
Full to the brim, before and again
"Reality"" which tries to unbid

The self from the mind
The meaning from line
The reason from rhyme
And the is from all time

Separates Us: from passion
From Trust.
From belief in ourselves
From love
From true wealth

From magic. From tragic
At least in true measure
Dulling the pain,
But denying the pleasure

The Roar and the Ring
A Hell of a Thing
To make the time pass or
To fill up Your Glass.

~D.B. Guy
August 15, 2011 12:11AM PDT

Stifling. Silent. Still.
No footsteps down the aisle
No bells. An empty ring.
A warmth I haven't felt in a while

I broke into them in our living room
"They're perfect," you said
With a gentle caress to my knee
And a delicate kiss on my forehead

But now they're collecting dust
By the mirror, where they sit
The laces have worn out
And the soles barely fit

I had it all pictured in my mind
The vows. The kids. The locks of gray.
Like a dream so close to my reach
But I just couldn't make you stay

Stifling. Silent. Still.
Like the heels I'll never wear
Empty. Eerie. Erased.
It was like you were never there

I crave the hues of your eyes
in every painted evening sky;
the brushstrokes of the setting sun
recall my flushed cheeks:
your smile to adorn—
and in every landscape I seek
the roads still cheekily lead me back
to your street.