Skeletal hands
Clutch
They yearn to hold
To clasp close
That delicate
Mortality

Where will they touch you?
What will they hold?
Caress your heart
To still its beat?
Perhaps your lungs
And steal your breath?
Or your mind
And rot your thoughts away?

These skeletal hands
Yearn to grip you
As they will
Always grip us all

They want to feel the warmth
Again
Of life and love
And when they touch
A soul
They steal it all away
Until only Darkness
Remains

Sweet scent of jasmine
Fills his senses as she steps
Into his arms
Softly he holds her close
One hand stroking her hair.
His eyes close
Enjoy the moment he whispers
To himself
She will leave and he will stand alone
She sighs gently
His heart skips a beat
Then she leaves
Hands the last to part
As she walks away
The scent of jasmine floats
In the air; a reminder
Of a moment when his whole world
Changed
When his heart skipped a beat.

Sit and think
Contemplate
The world as it is
What a difference
A year makes

Joy and love
Gives way to
Sadness and pain
Betrayal
The watchword of it all

Sit and think
What's the point?
Why is there this
Suffering
Torment and pain
Never-ending
Fades from time to time
But it waits

Watching like a jungle cat
Waiting
Just waiting
For a moment of weakness
For the prey to relax
Then it may strike

Contemplate the edge
As you thumb the blade
Wonder
What would it feel like
Is it true
That it's cowardly?
It's easier
To lay down and die
Than to keep fighting
Keep trying
And nothing changes

Forced to walk alone
For all the effort
To care so much
And nothing in return
The mind screams
That's the way it is
The heart weeps
Poor shattered thing
Wants to give
Can't make it happen

Shallow cut
On the pad of the thumb
Pulls the mind to reality
Softly swearing
The tool is cast aside
This time
As the wound
Is staunched

This time
The mind won
Survival
Over the pain
In the heart
We live to fight
Another day

I sit
Alone
With my thoughts
They swim around me
Teeth bared
Trying to bite
I struggle
But still
Slowly
By inches
Wounds appear
Rips in my mind
Tears in my eyes
This pain grows
How long must I endure
What is left for me
But the fight
The struggle
When do i quit
I stop
I succumb
To the suffering
Is it in me to give up?

No.
Stubborn old man fights.
To stop the struggle
To quit
Is to lay down and
Die.
I am not ready.

So
I sit
Alone
In the dark
With my thoughts.
This time
Will I be ready?

Careless
Swept onto the floor
Shattering
Into pieces
Broken
Almost beyond repair
And yet time will be taken
It will be fixed
Days, nights
Weeping, angry
Loneliness
The changes creep in
Until
Finally
Whole again
Riven with cracks
Pieces missing
But whole as it can be
And the final fix
Into a jar it goes
Sealed tightly
To be seen
And not touched
Safe. Protected.
It hurts so badly,
You see,
When it breaks.