#blackbookpoetry
truly? truly,
you know not this weight,
this affliction cast upon my weary heart.
and, truly,
if it were a fate
by my own choosing,
your cedar eyes
would be near mine
and not at the demise
of parting;
and the wistfulness of
your kiss,
the bliss that you bestow,
would not be
far away.
truly,
I have found peace
in my despondency.
for these sullen skies
hold feeble cries
but they do not
tell not our fate;
so onward we press,
while you bid farewell
and I give my heavy heart
to no one.
Apr 22, 2016
Apr 22, 2016 at 2:35 AM UTC
**** you, Dandelion.
You are a bitter plague.
Your putrid reputation
sows a discording stay.
Your spread your potent seed,
a curse among the others;
how will thy beauty flourish
when murdered is thy mother?
Rose has her vanity,
Daisy has her life;
but you hold a talent
for fertilizing strife.
**** you, Dandelion.
What a pity to be you.
Thy beauty holds no power,
thy talent ruins you.
Feb 16, 2016
Feb 16, 2016 at 12:33 PM UTC