If I can’t swallow your frigid heart
then let me kiss the traces of your
loneliness with my ugly mouth

And on a sleepless night
when your soul needs a cure,
I will be there with lavender tea

Holy salvation is an illness, born from the fear of death's inevitability.

Crave it, seek your next fix.
Fragile psyche. A rational thought away from shattering should you miss your next dosage of biblical pills.

Forgive us our doctor as we sin again. We must have our medicinal eucharist.

The doctor plans his psychological corruption meticulously. Join hands, spread the disease of fear. Become terrified sheep together. Become dependent on sanctified lies together. The mass mania contagion runs rampant.

Now the doctor begins his treatment. Gold for a weekly shot of sainted insanity. The destitute pay well, their hands tied in prayer as their pockets are plundered.

The church of St charlatans. Founded upon a rock of corruption. Preaching divine death as curable terror, blessing it with coin.

But holy salvation is the illness, and only the dead are cured.

You infected me with your praise
A thought provoked and I was yours
Immediately I was weak to your ways
Highly susceptible to your allures

Your virus spread through me like a fire
I was burning with a yearning for more
Your power left me with a hot desire
Churning deep within my core

But like any disease, you hurt me inside
My resistance corroded, my body gave way
I had no defense, internally crucified
No antibodies to keep you at bay

Over time I came to see the ugly truth
You had taken over and you were strong
My love was like candy, and you had a sweet tooth
Your presence was an affliction all along

So I turned up the heat, and starved you of attention
I stopped being your treat, ignored your condescension

Enraged by my defiance, and wounded by my suspicion
You demanded my compliance, and used all your ammunition

But the jig was up, it was too late
You'd revealed your hand
I would no longer wait
I figured out what you had planned

And then I was free
From this illness of you
I could be me
And we were through

Though your pestilence left behind many scars
I am now and forever immune to your charms

And should you try to deceive me again
You'll find this treasure far more secure
I may have been an easy target then
But now I am armed with the cure

My experience led me to the light
A future without ambiguity, and it's so bright

You were a sickness, an ailment, a disease
You were a cold..
And now I'm antifreeze

Suicidal, reclining on a sofa
Gazing at his partner’s photo,
A handsome friend of mine I got
He was  by an
Overwhelming love smote.

To optimize hers
And his pleasure to trim
She opted
Suddenly to desert him.

Buddy, what weighs
So heavily on your mind?
Get it off your chest
A solution I may help you find!

“This picture-perfect girl
Sweet-talked me into love,
She playacted
As one sent from above.
But all of a sudden,
Before I had figured it out,
A mishap,
She dropped off the map.
You see, she was ready
To flee to
Her secret fiancé abroad
Simultaneously,
All the while grabbing
My hand
To lead me
Along love’s road.

With her fiancé
Stashed in
The back of her mind,
In a manner
A lead to her secret
I may not find
She was aware
Our love
To a halt
Would soon grind
However absurd
Her act I might find!”

I recited to him
A poem from Debebe Seifu,
Ethiopia’s famous poet,
Cognizant a well prescribed
Poem is an antidote
"You served me
An asinine chalice
Concocted of
Honey and gall,
Which at one shot
I gurgled down my throat.
Your fingers caressed me
To make me forget my pain
To lullaby me in to a sleep
Upon awakening from
My hallucination to get myself
In a thorny bed again."

Reading, re-reading the poem
Laughing out loud,
His anguish he soon forgot.
So make note,
To normalize a mood swing
Reading poems is a nice thing.

looking d
                 o
                   w
                      n on this earth,
the moon sheds iridescent liquid pearl gems,  
Lamenting FOR EARTH,
                             a earth that's pregnant
                                            with
                               sorrowful burdens,
how must I not feel despair,
feeling the moon's magnificent repercussions of sudden eruption,
feeling of sheer dread,
tearfully pleading for it to end,


In shock, for a moment,
muted are my words,
my tongue asleep,
Fingers crave, mind agonized...
martyred for words.

My pen bleeds ink,
innovating a remdesivir,
to cure the world,
if only there were a cure for
ONE
   &
ALL!

To cure the world of the pandemic burdens of HATE, INJUSTICE and VIOLENCE,
but until then,
we must not dabble in silence!
~SacredInkedBlood

If each of us could share a little piece of your pain
The way we share your love
We would
If we could endure for you
To give you gentle rest
We would
Yet no darkness can overwhelm your light
No amount of pain or tears can change you
You have taken what this dying world deals out
And you keep your integrity
I have seen forever
And touched the newest day of hope
And I want with all my heart
To share it with you
I wish you sunlight on your golden hair
And new warm winds on your gentle face
I wish you laughter in your baited breath
And sweet hope in your heart
For this cage won't hold you for long
And you will not always hurt
Yet you will always be loved
And you will always be
Good

Its
only
cure


seeing
beyond what is