Poetry
1989

Don't judge harshly

that which the soul

pours forth in its own discovery!

by year

1989

 

DEATH OF A ROSE

 

My happiness radiates through my smile

And I bloom like the glorious red rose.

This love I share with you in today,

I’ll carry with me through all tomorrows.

 

The very essence of your soul,

Quenches me through its flowing river.
But too soon your blood runs cold,

And the rose begins to shiver.

 

But the sunshine of your love,

Soon again peers through all the clouded haze.

The rose begins to bloom again,

This time to be burnt in your careless blaze.

 

My thorns pierce through your immoral flesh

And draw the venomous blood of a liar.

But reflecting on our once innocent love,

The rose gets burnt in the fire.

 

It hurts me to think there once was a day

When within you I held such trust.

Yet now my petals turn to blood

And my stem and thorns to dust.

 

Say goodbye to the blushing rose

And all the elements of.

I was burnt by your malevolent fire,

In the cremation of our love.

 

Dec. 1989

DESTINY’S DARLINGS

Given a choice of destiny,

To overlook the days to come,

To see our lives together,

To see you and I as one.

I’ve often dreampt

And I’ve often wept,

Just hoping we’ll be together.

And no hands of fate

Will ever change

This love for you I’ve kept.

 

My love for you can penetrate

The deepest darkest night.

Ever flying and everlasting,

A golden display or ecstasy

Soaring forever on its beautiful flight.

 

If only I could find you.

If only I knew how.

To weave a web of intimacy

To hold you as of now.

 

Yet I fear I will have to wait

Until fate says the time is right.
My heart awaits this destiny

Through every day and  night.

 

You are the one

You are the soul

To take us two

And make us whole.

 

May 12 1989

 

 

NIGHTHEART

 

The devil incarnate boils the milk of human kindness.

He triumphs in his treachery and deception.

He victimizes the angelic and spits venom on goodness.

Wreaking havoc with his wanton malice

He devastates the divine spirit that could have saved his soul

A fallen angel of deviltry creates a diabolical rhythm in his heart of stone.


Who now would dare to chisel love onto his breast,

Only to be submerged into abysmal hell.
Devoid of all emotion, the epitome of tyranny.

A wandering, savage desperado with an appetite for destruction.

A ravenous desire to devour the innocent and befriend the guilty.

Only to rot in solitude.

 

Scorching the earth and charring her remains,

The beast seems unconquerable.

He lurks across sentiment blind to its existence.

He torments emotions in an interminable masquerade.

Yet he fails to acknowledge his own mortality.

How much longer can he tramp across her tenderness,

The truth that states, goodness in invincible

And benevolence always triumphs,
The nighthearted beast will perish in flames

Of his venomous fire- never knowing the ecstasy of love.

 

Dec. 1989

 


 

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