Countless series of melancholic oceans
Hitting through waves of adversity
Only to be repulsed by provocations
Disjointed affections falls effortlessly

With no such contemporary feelings
Choked amongst the walls of solitary
Praying silently for a better ending
A hopeless romantic it seems evidently

Voyaging away from the sufferings
Patching holes of memories
Rekindling fire from breathing
Dreams torn away in fantasies

Sober desires creates a lustful reality
Shone away ignoring a truthful beginning
Nothing can hold us against this treachery
Forsaken our love has left me begging

©2014 Maman Screams

With a smile reminiscent to the glow of the moon
And eyes that put a starry sky to shame,
When our sights meet, melancholy and joy become one
And generate a feeling unknown to man;

Melancholy, for the aching burden of not knowing every little thing about you
Joy, for the blessing of the sole vision of you.
No canvas can match the beauty
Of the truest masterpiece.

No orchestra can match the chaste sound of your voice,
A simple "hello" puts my heavy heart to rest.
I pray that the beauty that lies beneath the curtain
Is far greater than what is presented.

My heart burns with an enticing flame
As melancholy and joy meet, creating an emotion unknown to man.
Melancholy, for not being your closest friend
And joy, for the chance to truly get to know you.

There's no keynote
Or some particular issue
In my mind
It's just the void
Trying to fit in
There is no predicament
Its just these words
Trying to find space
Provocatively engaging my mind
To work on something
That ought to be done
Like it's some imperative assignment
Just these consonants
Camouflaging and slaughtering
That empty space
These characters from one
To twenty six
Continually withering
In search of a place
With Some connotation.

I was raised
on the ways of
the Wolf.
I applied these ways
to the best of
my ability.
Only to be set
loose to live amongst
the sheep.
Where
my ways were
considered savage
and unreasonable.

I turned to
the Poppy
and the *****.
I was insearch
of a temporary
sanctuary from
the  past misdeeds
replaying
themselves
inside my head.

Only at a later
age did I come
to understand
these wounds
that still
bleed leave
trails full of
wasted years,
lost lovers and
forgotten
hopes
and dreams.

I counted the
Black and Whites
as they passed
me by.
I tried to
melt into the
crowd.
The vigilance
and anger in
my heart refused
to walk amongst
the live stock.
For I was raised
as one with
brother Wolf.
I needed to
run on the outside
of their
invisible bindings.

I died everyday
for 3 years .
I pulled
from the *****
then turned to
the poem and
discovered
a new way
to torture
my  mind while
healing the heart.

I dropped
the mask I
had wore
for so many
of these
theatrical
years.

I set about
revealing hearts
blood and fractured
bone.
I ripped the
inside of
me out and
presented it
as treasure.
Only to find
the masses
are indeed
too much
like sheep.
Never
understanding the
manners of
the wolf....