To your pleasure,
I will never call you again.
Nor brush your lip with mine.
Mourning you has become an art.

Lament now?
Should I?
No…
just once more…

Sharpened words we used to puncture,
no longer unsheathed.
Scars within,
leave lasting marks too.

A black widow you are…
a wonder in beginnings,
luring me in your web…
deadens me.

I hate you.
What tensed me so
to say that to you?
You’ve drained me of emotion.

I drag my anger away.
I will not listen anymore.
I know death is waiting…
just beyond.

This road leads nowhere.
A bluish light, vaguely reminiscent of the moon,
illuminates the path ahead.

A frigid, sudden gust slaps my cheek.
Numbing the sense
of the falling tears.

The restrictions of life
have kept me rolling on rusty tracks,
screaming through a narrow, black tunnel.

The way ahead holds uncertainties.
A storm of blackened clouds
veil the path ahead.

Rays of twilight
offer glances.
I still don’t know where I am.

I let you rest your face
upon mine,
when you feel as so.

Your river runs calm,
and free,
from its ocean.

Crossing my cheek
from yours;
quietly down.

Leaving its path
of eye-shadow
behind.

Dim green,
that’s what you wore,
a dye;
finely concentrated
to stain
the center gem
within
your eye.

I have for you;
mask of love,

sewn to mind,
which despises of.

Summer’s funeral has surely come!
For sure it is bedtime for the warmth
and the awakening of the chill.

Trees have been ***** of their leaves.
All that stands are their naked bodies;
opened to the abuse of winter.

How beaten we are, how abused by each other.
Shall hell’s fury or heaven’s grace rule?
Our moon cuts a wink for us in the night sky,

shall we ever be mocked further?
From spring’s birth to summer’s life,
fall’s ill to winter’s death.