He  stays  with  us  in  winter  storms
And  when  the  garden's  bleak
He  hops  around  in  sleet  and  hail
Appearing  pale  and  weak.

But  once  the  days  begin  to  lengthen
And  the  worst  of  winter's  gone
He  perches  high  up  in  a  tree
And  begins  his  joyful  song.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.

Unimposing to the objects around.
Visualizing each item with vivid detail.
Haunting the forgotten sleeping synapse.
Hidden deep within the fiber.
Feeling lungs cascading violently.
Sundering pops of adrenaline punctuate.

Shadows cast doubt over courage.
Crossed eyes seeing double vision.
Tranquility forbid the beating heart.
Shaken steadily upon each migraine.
Broken toe acting subtle.

Windows eviscerating the light.
Dimming color and pigments alike.
Dancing brave the wildly fire.
Black and blue, mildly haze.
Images of demon and ghoul take the hour.

Sickened sunken skeletal room.
White tiles caress coldly as ice.
Air circulates with grim agenda.
Hands riddled with obnoxious arthritis.
Brooming the dust, sweeping the fear.

The beautiful black steed champions it away.
Red are the hoofs painting the scene.
Vaporizing the light by any means.
Delegating everything entirely serene.
Shootingstar, throttling deemed.

Brilliant cloud looming so high.
Setting the Sun into the sky.
Benevolent brother opposing shy.
Sorcering wisdom allowing to fly.
Devilish the Moon, waking my eye.

It's cold and dark but he no longer cares
probably safe to say he no longer feels
the lights are turned down dim
no sound 'xcept the wheeze of the wind outside

the walls are bare, at emptiness he stares
you only realise what you've lost when it's gone
nothing but half drunk cocktails and *******
within his callous pale facade he hides

what's done is done, but never forgiven
he gave it all, all of what could be given
they spat it back, threw it all in his face
now here he rots in isolation suspended in disgrace

conniving vultures they tore him apart
ridicule upon ridicule lashed upon his heart
bought them diamonds, gold, anything a woman could ever need
rather than love they acted out of jealousy and greed

---

once there were birds that sang at the start of every morn
right outside his bedroom window
oh how he regrets their sudden passing
their joyful tweets made this world seem so kind

now he wakes with a head crippled, a face tightly drawn
hunger being that of gnawing addiction
caring for nothing but the Caviar and it's forbidden magic
helping him leave all the pain behind

guided like a train to its next station
total self-destruction his only destination

languishing in drugs, *******-out ***
that it was all his fault I guess
the Pallid Badrock Lover will never accept.

He'd invested his heart and soul
now he wants back to where the dead wildflowers grow
unawares to how things had gone, good or bad,
uneasiness the worst yet best feeling he's ever had

one thing contradicts the other
wanting to ask but not to smother
if only he could read her beautiful, obscure mind
then he could leave all this pain behind -

oh here I stand over my kingdom of dust
embraced by pity, betrayed by trust
sitting upon the throne of isolation I wallow in drink
slowly but steadily into despair I sink

am I not good enough, am I not fair
how can I be loved when nobody cares?
Can lies ever be lies without truth
I tear at my pathetic skin, spit upon my youth

Answer! Answer! Please just reply
with every passing second my mind does cry
I'm sorry but I'm desperate, I n-need to know
need to escape this black void where the spineless grows

smiling with tears running down my face
feeling insane, a pure messed up disgrace
she's opened up the scars, salted the old wounds
my head's crazy, stagnant, bitterly love exhumed.

Autumn.
How do you charm?
Is it the pretty leaves?
Perhaps, it's the popular color?
Maybe the unique smell?

It truly is the season of change.
Past loves revisited in waves of seasonal aroma.
A sense of urgency from the changing colors.
The frailty of the fallen leaves.
A hint of impending doom.

Though, gently the wind grazes.
Warmth echoing through the chills.
Some antidotes heal with the passing of time.
Preparing us to mentally brave winter.
Reflecting inward, changing outward.

Hope; maybe.
Motivation to work hard.
Endlessly, to find our way.
Pick up what we can and move on.
Recollections of the good, the bad, and the old.

Noble as time flows.
Ultimately, honorably ending.
Another chance, another year.
Different colors, different smells.

Accomplishments and failure.
It's all the same in the end.
Withering, until spring.
Life fights a way through.
Meeting us on the other side.
Reborn again.

I think I've sprung a leek
There's nothing more to seek
Creating my own ocean
Void of all commotion
My eyes are turning gray
For today I'll just float away
Upon my sea of red
For your silence was all that needed to be said

When we found each other I thought my life had changed
Only to find out later my life is still the same

No love, no light
No guidance out of the night
Still at the bottom of the hole
So I had to make you go

You didn't fix my broken heart
You just scattered the parts

I once thought you could bring some life, to this corpse mine
But as the time went by, all I could find
Was agony of the longing
You let me know in your arms I wasn't belonging

I feel in love with the sexually bliss
But afterwards I was always dismissed
No warm cuddles
No happy snuggles

Just a cold shoulder
As you rolled over
No kiss good bye
In the morning out the door you would fly

I'm not much
But I have a hunch
I deserve more
Than to be hurt to the core

You left me in a place I deplore
Once again left beating on loves door