Two tear-rivers streamed in my black forest,
And sorry I could not dam it to a respite
And be it I’ve longed to change,
And parting one eyelid, as far as I could be sane
To where I tear in the rain;

Then locked the other eyelid, as just as teary,  
And quench perhaps their thirst daily,
Because it was thundery, and wanted to cry;
Though as for that within the rain I was sly,
Had falling tear-showers really be from the sinking sky?


Both these eyes to the world equally keen
In rain no tears shall be seen.
Oh, sorrowed storms hide the bursting stream!
Yet strolling my way sobbing on,
If ever should come back the sun, I’d be gone.

I should be telling this with a hesitance
But somewhere ages ago I died:
Two tear-rivers flowed in my mind,
Succumbing to one less sufferance
And that has solaced all the difference.
A sad poem.
Nightfall has spilt its ink
staining the landscape with its morbid hue.

The moon stares and bleaches
the oily water with thousands of winks.

A mountains silhouette
carved the abysmal blue

of the nighttime horizon…
the purgatory of our sins.

The power of Gods eye
thrusts through the darkness

and the spotlight of his white iris
pierces the blackened hue that is our sins.

Satan resides deep in the oily depths
where he and his plague of followers drown in sin.

The lords light shall be visible here,
though not so brilliantly,
as Styx is dyed in a pitch tinge.

Far above the freezing, muddy floor of Styx,
the dampened air of purgatory clouded in mist;

illuminated
by our Fathers starry eye.
A poem about ****.
My poetry/short story website: www.gothicsurrealism.com
Frailly erected upon two twigs
within the hallowing walls of the dusking sun beam,
I’m encircled by the furious winds of a ******’s no-mans-land.

This land encompassing me
is one violated by its own submission
into vision-less ignorance.

I stand here,
the temptation to reach through;
exposing myself into the obscurities around me.

Is it within this light that I am being misguided?
Is it the world beyond holding the truth
from which has deceived me time and again?

There’s only one way to find my path,
be it dark and unkind, I must step out of my life
into the world that whirls in frightening speed around me.

I gaze through the purifying threshold
feeling the eyes of the nocturnal creatures
piercing from far beyond.

They know me;
they see me,
fearing what they don’t understand.

This world is too small,
I walk amongst the folks I coexist
within these cruel existences.

I gasp… my skin tightens…
I take one last look up into my dusking sun;
“I wonder how you shine in the world beyond!”
A poem about schizophrenia
Stunned still! In spotlights
of narrow-minded illogicalities?

Your poisonous intentions
inflicted with sharpened utters of disrespect!

Of what pure breed
have you been endowed?

Leave useless judgments to your own misguidance
and me to tend my dreams!
A poem about former friends of mine.
My poetry/short story website: www.gothicsurrealism.com
This skinless body…
an exposed inner lack of conscience.
A once concealed mold of ****… stabbed and gutted.
I shall hide no more.

Oh that deceptive suit I’ve always worn
clings still… to the feet of a body that drags it in the past.
My mask of sanity now lifted;
opening the curtain to a horror show.

I will never walk a lie again.
I’ll keep my back towards the life of deceit.  
Such a fragile soul has lost all its armor,
how can things ever be the same again?

The foundations of every beautiful lie I’ve lived to utter
shall collapse, leaving a dust cloud of uncertainty.
Through the light of reason…
surviving truths shall follow past the veil…
though I’m afraid I am of few logical justifications.

Hear me whoever... I confess!
A slightly darker poem. It's about confession.
My poetry/short story website: www.gothicsurrealism.com
Your picture possesses my mind,
burning my resistance
to a confounded pile of ash.

It’s been hours.
Yet still, I can’t describe the inferno
prowling behind those eyes.

All that remains
is a heart pounding its ribcage beneath,
thrusting blood through rigor veins.
A break up poem.
My poetry/short story website: www.gothicsurrealism.com
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