till we meet again in Martyrdom

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I

Forged and forced upon the darkened stage,
Embraced in the womb of the spotlight,
Where found the lack unwarranted,
Unwanted in its attention.
But when it dims, don't let it diminish
Your beauty only smeared, scarred
In the mask,
Off behind rouge and mirrors.
Behind those lashes, a screen
That screens out some personal truth
Hardens against the softness of the light.
On those lips linger icy runes,
Etherizes what audience swoons under your words,
Passionate and puzzling;
Dubious in your intangible stare.

II

With you,
I could not turn the page on a fantastical archetype.
In my walled towers,
They plummet like game birds
After being gamed and gained.
Not you, nor I,
Can merge the internal delights
And external barriers in our hapless perfection.
It's too painful to have it any otherwise,
Or watch it wasting here... mere mortal grounds.
My fears distorted your kisses,
Into questions, despair, and tears.
Cold and callous,
My bitter cry cuts deep and true and hollow;
Without you,
Only weep and sallow.

III

We stumbled over divine taboo;
My past's fancy, and your squalid meanings.
It was only to exist silently, secretly
In our knowing;
Oh God, how you tempted me with a marble hand!
All was born in chaos,
All was charred in chaos.
But to have held you within me,
To have bathed you in me,
To have you soaked onto me -
Alas, I would be cast from a thousand Edens,
And feel full lived in the deepest sorrows.
Tragedy, yet tragedy with its relentless delusion
Veils me, prevails over me,
Until only in death compared
Surrenders to us our love ever, lost.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

[ the pendulum | poetry | musing | random | links ]
[ featured poem | toxic fumes | nerds'forum ]