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Tomás Kelly May 2013
I am the vacant sea,
Bereft of sentimentality apparently,
Gallantly, I uncannily resemble,
An assembly of mistreated heroes,
And a villain or two;
I am a wave at its lowest ebb,
Further now from the shore,
Furthermore from the door,
Of the love I want to blow,
Me away;
Obsolete, I’m Pac-man in the penny arcade,
Ms. Pac-man’s ****** off for days,
Or months or years; or was she ever even here.

Always holed up in my cave,
Staring at the razor blade,
Waiting for divine intervention,
Some totalitarian convention,
To drag me away;
No cares, this lust,
This pushed me over the edge,
Through the hedge- funded by my
Need for mediocrity; indemnity,
Insatiable, eternally caught far,
From what I seek;
Could anyone love a creature so bleak?

Going on a diet of bread and water,
Lamb to the slaughter,
So that someone’s daughter,
Might love a Devil like me.
Tomás Kelly May 2013
Mournfully, I adorned the gilded bench
Bereft of innocence and purity
Warmonger-in-chief for the city
Wistfully succumbing to love’s lament

Suddenly, I was roused from dreaming
In my peculiar, conscious slumber
By the sluggish, haunting thunder
Of a passing tram, obviously scheming

It trudged wearily by my side
Echoing inside my murky cavities
Where I commit my ***** travesties
The remorseful ones that guiltily I hide

It’s with a sigh I feel that macabre touch
For nature did not nurture me this way
To be so unwelcome and unworthy of the day
But I've loved so strong, perhaps too much
Tomás Kelly May 2013
Flowers build the summer air
Flowers bring untold despair
Flowers in the sun do grow
Shatter when the north winds blow
Flowers love not you, nor me
But lust for all the honey bees
Working in their busy way
To glut on all the summer days.

But when the bees are all but done
And Autumn leaves block out the Sun
Who's that in their final hour?
Not you or me-
Our friends, the flowers.
Tomás Kelly May 2013
I am decided quietly
That I am a man of leisure
Of peace and philanthropy
But most of all-
Of **pleasure
Tomás Kelly May 2013
I must exist to her
To exist truly to myself
This endless ramble
Through Hades
Is forever exhausting
And fraught with youth’s peril
Draining life and love from me
Simply to exalt her being

I'm forever wandering
Between two distant worlds
Crossing the threshold
Between life and imagined death
Perhaps to find a word
To label my torment
Though it, like me
Must not exist

It could not exist
And why should it?
I do not exist
And why should I?
We are nothing
If we are not objects
In the starry eyes
Of love.
Tomás Kelly May 2013
It's been a while since we drank wine,
On the borderline somewhere between love and great desire,
I was a miser, a pauper in the ways of romance,
With space in his heart for two but a want for one.

You were the elegant lotus flower,
Unfurling each delicate petal of venomous beauty,
I was taken aback with what I may never know,
Your eyes like none I'd ever seen before,
Possessing all the wisdom I need in this lifetime,
I stood shaken, a stray dog in the rain.

You beckoned to me to dance across celestial Babylon,
But in my haste and in my darkest hour to date,
I procrastinated and that glorious morning sun returned,
Ripping down each pathetic colour from the rainbow,
Until the world fell grey and limp,
And silence dawned upon my heart and I was then,
As I am now, alone, and so forever shall I stay,
'Til death do us part, my heart and I.

— The End —