Have you ever heard the sound
of someone's concealed, internal tears,
crying through the vibrations
of the still, dense silence?

A piercing,
screeching sound,
Whilst seeing invisible, warm blood
pouring from their eyes -
such horrific,
torturous violence.

Your soul feels
the shock
of the extreme pain--telepathically.
You feel helpless, to say the least...

A tainted soul,
truly horrified -
tortured
by their cruel,
internal,
dark, dark beast.

Have you? ... I have!

By Lady R.F ©2016

Rock-bottom
is a place
where strong warriors
display self-control -
by finding their ground
and picking themselves up - collected.

By Lady R.F ©2016

Pick yourself a flower
From the fields
Within my heart,

I make you a promise:
My kind, caring fragrance,
From you,
Will never, ever part.

Pick yourself a berry
From the branches
Of my soul's vine,

My giving, eternal sweetness
Will remain with you forever -
Beyond
The end of time.

By Lady R.F ©2016

Her eyes are kind her heart is warm
She is a Rose, I am a Thorn
We catch and ride the wild steed
I’m so alive and she’s so free

In the gazebo we dance until dawn
Our bodies lay naked out on the lawn
Completely fulfilled and finally whole
I have no intention of  letting go

Wheels are turning my heart is yearning
A lust for life subconsciously burning
I breathe too deep and the dream is lost
I start the day with a secret thought

Perhaps she was fictional beyond conclusion
A kaleidoscope of colors, a beautiful delusion
If only to awake and find her near
Instead I awake and gasp for air...

An unfenced field
of memories awoken ,
frozen pastel flowers
color fast ,
though fading
on borrowed time

A one-way footpath
disappears unencumbered
between the snowdrifts
leading across
the winter stilled
iced up creek bed ,
coursing a path
of least resistance
destiny unknown

Changing tawny petals
scatter like potpourri ,
fallen collateral
in the aftermath
a beautiful dream's
passing light

Pressed and dried
memories buried
under dog-eared  
tear-stained pages
black topiaries
that grow in the dark

Redemption unbid
and unwelcome,
earthen mineral rights
surrendered unspent ,

Natural order
decomposing
reclamation ,
chilled to the marrow

A scorned lover’s
bated breathe
bared ink unspoken,

Unbidden laments
eerily betokened
in an unseen
netherworld ,
undeniable ,  yet
bashfully remarkable

I see the frosty
fogged breath
that repents
in choral dialect ,   
speaking in known
tongue , with
the absolvable voice
of a bitter cold wind


*wind is the wind .... December 20. 2016