Poetry

Je Suis Tombé Par Terre

I stand upon the brink crest fallen,

For the abyss before me it has callen.

Do I leap? Do I reject the grass from beneath my feet?

As I stand betwixed both life and death

What is fate?

Fate, oh fate, what wondrous angels will you bring me?

To sing a song of rest upon me,

As their downy wings caress my face as I fall into their soft alabaster arms onto thy rest.

Or fate, sweet fate, will you bring me devils?

With wicked flames to lick and devour my flesh,

As I scream in torment a most vivid living hell.

For if I jump I will burn,

Because jumping is the prefix to burning.

As the abyss is never as empty as it seems,

For devils bring emptiness in their eyes to temp us mortals to leap to our demise.

When bones do break and tears do fall

The devils dance and angels fall,

I find myself once more upon the grassy brink.

Will I leap or continue to fall?



Rose Woman

She lays naked on a bed of roses.

Her dark hair entwines with their thorns.

Her lips, parted like the sweetest bud.

They are just as soft and as rare.

Her eyes shine like tear drops of dew,

Just as deep and twice as blue.

To every man a woman is a rose,

Delicate and beautiful with deadly poison thorns.


The Lake

Standing alone in the desolate place,

Gazing at my image upon the frozen lake,

I quiver beneath my bodice as the snow burns my skin.

I see a blacken shape appear beneath the ice,

Its hair flows free about its face

And deathly staring eyes.

I emit a gasp and break the ice

Freeing the dammed soul.

Her hand reached out and took my wrist,

And in one pull it was done,

Because that is when I met my fate,

By the lake so long ago.


Love: the Death of Souls and Sanity

My heart leaps, the pounding about my ears and chest fills me with such nauseating joy

That butterflies rebound themselves against my innards.

Is this love? Or a strange maddening disease which has been inflicted upon me by another person?

For if love existed would we be so quick to tangle ourselves in the presence of another?

To wear masks of joy and prospect when all we feel is death,

Death, loneliness and despair, the only true emotions that a true human can feel.

Not love,

Love in all its sickeningly sweet dreadful glory.

Forcing us to sell our souls to mortal devils who would see us fall and perish all in the name of love.

But who could we live without love, and the way it makes our lives feel desired and priceless?

How it makes every black, dismal and curse ridden day more bearable, liveable.

If love is to both heal and destroy us why we were not warned?

Warned against such foolish actions and emotions such as love, joy and attachment.

Instead of allowing us to become mindless creations obsessed with causing ourselves heartache.

Why allow us to continue the torment of love?

To seek refuge in mortal gods who would eventually harm us for their own enjoyment and wellbeing.

Are we mad? As love is the only madness that could infect the sanest of people.