Beguiling, pink petals
dance about my ears,
capturing my cares —
oh, my worries, and fears.
Pocketing my darkness,
in these petals — so assuring —
yes, pocketing my darkness,
in these petals so alluring.

Caging so tightly
to keep peril at bay,
but these petals seep open
letting melancholy stray.
And these petals of blush
soon wilt into gray;
obsolescent ashen
petals drift far away.

Malevolence now freed,
scatters lightly about
its malicious intent,
inflicting sorrow and doubt.
I’m wary to proceed
with this life of late,
brimmed with sadness and fear;
swallowed withal by hate.

But concealed in the shade —
what was once feared before —
soon beguiles my mind
into pleading for more.
Now calling out for
this sinister of slight,
to hasten its darkening
into an obsidian night.

Waiting Still for Tomorrow

Deafening tone,
Makes me not alone,
Continually singing a sorrow.
Bring not today,
For I beg keep away,
That lament until Tomorrow.

It whispers so loud,
“You are lost in the crowd,
Lost in a sea of harrow.”
It’s censure grew — strewth!
Mocking my sad truth,
Threatening what follows Tomorrow.

I attempt to evade —
Stopped by a palisade,
Yes, stopped by a wall of yarrow.
Plucking mere few,
Intent to make new,
My wounds and be healed by Tomorrow.

“Sweet yarrow await,
I shall be kept late,
By that tormentor who inflicts sorrow,”
But yarrow soon will fade,
Leave my mind in the shade, and
My heart waiting still for Tomorrow.

as the disgruntled, sleep deprived EMT announced her condition.
Arriving on scene, they tended to her,
then loaded her with care.
I sit in my warm, tucked away office as i feel
a slight prickling on my arms.
The chilled air which fills the night wafts into the ER,
as they wheel in her body.
Flashes of red - lashes of red as her son
releases tears onto her bed.
Placid, up-turned face masked with displaced comfort,
despite the plastic rod protruding from her mouth.
Her husband leans in and
so gently he kissed her, so gravely he missed her.
“Call it. 4:40.”
Her arms tucked away beneath her,
as she has fallen asleep for the last time.
Covered by blankets, preserving her last, final warmth.
She will soon turn cold.
The light has left her eyes, in the distance are cries.
Her monitor displays her state,
while her family gathers around, chilling the night with -
static tones and stoic moans.

Deliberate drops of dwindling black streams
seep between barriers into my dreams,
and maliciously mocks my frightened soul.
My mind, it happens to hollow beyond my control.
The chill-biting breath forms patterns of lace,
intertwining my mind with deceptive grace.
How beautifully this new terror becomes me!
This wave of sadness and I seem to agree.
Obsidian frost covered sinister thought,
with insidious ice of intricate wrought.
My thoughts are repressed by shadows that so silently swarm,
while crystals of darkness begin to form.
And so, while I laugh at my darkened state,
and dip into treacherous valleys of woe,
I carve a downward smile yet almost too late;
into that bright face from long, long ago.