For sale, one heart.
In basic working order.
The exterior shows many failed attempts at repair.
The interior, hollow.
Many previous owners.
Sold for use as scrap or parts.
Any bids considered.
Pick up only, as fragile.
The whispers of madness now leach through the walls
and darkness it draws ever near
buried in sorrow, hope faded away
and left only anger and fear.
I do not fear death everlasting
nor the weight of a judgement long due.
What I fear is the monster I harbour
as I'm slowly but surely consumed.
Depression and psychosis have torn my life into ribbons.
I stared up at the mountain
she didn't notice me
this speck of insignificance
with tattered hopes and dreams.
I wondered at her beauty
She didn't notice mine
in silence we both stood there
as her colours marked the time.
In spring she's draped in emerald,
through summer purple hues,
with autumn come the russets
'neath a sky of palest blue.
Winter comes and how she shines
beneath the starlit night!
Embroidered with some evergreen
her robes of ****** white.
I stared up at the mountain
for countless hours, alone
and there, within her shadow
I found comfort, I found home.
Cartref is Welsh for home.
Time to say goodbye it seems
to all I've loved and held too dear
as fate has turned her hand again
and loneliness has turned to fear.
There'll be no saviour for my soul
no prayer to light it's leaving,
no bowing heads nor wringing hands
in sad pretence of grieving.
No more to walk this earth alone
No more to bare my sorrow
No more to dread with every eve
the promise of tomorrow.
I felt my spirit leave me
she danced with my last breath
she twirled to one last heartbeat
then stilled to mourn my death.
She only mourned in passing
as others would have done,
then faded with a whisper,
a hushed farewell to none.
I went down to the river
washed the sin out from my bones
let the current take me over
cut my skin on sharpened stones
I felt the spirit move me
as I tumbled through the black,
sent my soul to see valhalla,
it ain't ever coming back.
As my tattered body surfaced
I looked back unto the shore
and knew that in that moment
I was lost forevermore.
I lingered low and lifeless
in amongst the tangled reeds
just a body filled with whiskey,
broken bones and evil deeds.
Let the water wash me over
let it cleanse the flesh away
let it crush my bones to powder,
leaving nothing to decay.
Let me live in constant darkness
filled with rage and zealots fire
only then will I taste liberty,
the one thing I desire.
You might think it silly
you might think it strange
you might think I'm crazy
or even deranged.
You can call me a hippy
a snowflake or worse
for putting my feelings
into rhyming verse.
My poems release me
from a world filled with hate
where everything's wrong
if its not white or "straight".
Where we persecute immigrants,
and breastfeeding mothers,
the helpless, the homeless
and millions of others.
I yearn for a world
where we all live in peace
arm in arm with our brothers,
would we then find relief?
Or would hatred still flourish
in the smallest of minds,
passed down through generations
'cross the passage of time.
So, call me a Marxist, a snowflake, a hippie
call me a communist, bleeding heart leftie.
While you rail at the world with your ignorant view,
fearing all others who don't look like you.
I'll still be here like a thorn in your side
filled with love for my brother, with arms open wide.
Your hatred will fester, an insidious cancer
as you hoist up your flag and attempt "Rule Brittania"