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They disrespect me.

They lied to me.

They mocked me.



Lunging emotional spears.

Deep into my decaying heart.

Watching the dark liquid seep.



I wailed a premature requiem for myself.

They shall receive what they give.

And on that day.



Whilst they lie there.

Broken and lost in the world.

My laughter shall echo in the winds.

Love is like the sun.

Woe is like the clouds.

Love shines through all.

Woe ends up covering ones life like a blanket.



Love is happiness.

Woe is sadness.

Love is all that matters.

Woe can prove to be the cracks in the most solid of armor.



Love is good.

Woe is bad.

Love lasts longest in the world.

Woe is more common than autumn leaves.



MY sun has shone through the clouds....

The one that matters to me most has buffed out all the cracks....

OUR love shall last FOREVER!

I adore her.

I Idolise her.

She is my love.

She is my turtle dove.



I am her guardian.

I am her protector.

I live for her.

I am her defender.



We are bound.

Through love and passion.

We kiss at the darkest of nights.

And the brightest of days.



We are two that love eternally.

Each other.

We live to please.

She is my Jasmine..I am her Voorhees....

The dead horizon diluted

the horizon to yellow.

I was on my way

to an unfamiliar home.

The neighbor's flowers

stank of decaying angels.

Somewhere a canine

howl pierced the silence.

Everything was changed

by the darkness, and I lost

my way. I wanted

to feed the dog some flowers.



The dome of stars touched

the valley's western side

when I found my new porch

where the dog sang a requiem

for the slowly falling petals,

his hackles raised.





Written by my favourite poet...Jason Paul Fox.

A shade

Something that is wide-spreadly feared by men

Something that barely refuses to simply fade

Yet they have nowhere to call a den



They haunt the very ground they tread

Spreading mystery, wonder and fear along the way

And can cause great paranoia in one's head

A mear thaught has sent the meddling mind or two into dissarray



Leaving their victims a mumbling mess

Without ever meaning to do so

Searching for a place to end their endless stress

Living another life full of woe



Will they ever end their wander?

One of a thousand lifetimes

One who many consider a blunder

And with which, I END my rhymes!

COMMENTS

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DarkFeline
08:39 Jun 19 2009

Love all your poems, and BTW I am a Wednesday's child too.

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