Sunday, August 31, 2014

The Edge



picture credit: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Legs-In-Barbwire-93720225


There will always be that something that you will seek,
that you will search for, that keeps chasing you in your dreams.
A nagging little hunger, a restlessness, a need to move and do,
to chase an exhilaration, face fear after fear,
stare the devil in the face with a defiant grin on your face,
before returning to the point of equilibrium,
as you retreat back to the edge of the ledge
and you wait for your next victim.
 



Saturday, August 30, 2014

Her Love



picture credit: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Kissing-in-the-rain-11432180



She carries a secret smile in her heart.
It radiates the love and elation
built in dreams,
where freedom of imagination
and reality merges into one
to become the moments
she spends with you.



Wednesday, August 27, 2014

To All You Non-Dreamers Out There



picture credit: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Starry-Night-70436614


the soul leaves the sleeping self towards an astral plane
where light beings soar with the whispers of the dreamers
that floats like music through a velvety darkness,
before sparkling with a delight that scatters twinkling eyes
into the infinite night sky.

those who lie sleepless, caught in the earthly tangle of roots
that slowly suffocates and destroys their ability to dream,
these twinkling eyes touch down upon as they stare into the darkness,
and leave behind some starry dust that slowly re-fills their need to dream.
 



Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Of Darkness...



picture credit: http://www.deviantart.com/art/black-60900848


There’s an owl on your roof
and the crows hover near,
a black cat is waiting
to enter your sphere,
while a cold wind is tearing
your psyche apart,
submit to the dark
that of you is a part.
 
For the owl rules the night
and befriended your soul,
struck at the crows
that your sanity stole,
while the cat bides the time
for your spirits’ descent,
to merge with your secrets,
to end your torment.




Saturday, August 23, 2014

The Stalker



picture credit: http://ineedchemicalx.deviantart.com/art/Please-not-today-137892090


Disquiet surges through my being, I want to crawl out of my skin,
my hackles are raised each time it breaks, the silence not silent at all.
Something is chasing me, steadfastly hunting me,
corrupting all that I see, how I feel, and what I know,
and it leaves a gaping hole of distrust in its wake.
And he skims past the border of my consciousness
shading the light with his darkness,
and unrest snakes through my veins,
churning disorder I cannot process,
and my mind cannot rest for he’s stolen my sleep,
so please give me something to take off this edge
that is wearing my psyche down. 




Friday, August 22, 2014

The Quicksand of your Love




picture credit: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Learning-to-fall-190244596



Observing from the distance I was drawn,
intrigued by your being and your wit,
whilst up close the faint detachment
gave way to a fire
that burnt through countless nights of darkness,
illuminating the fusion of our limbs and our hearts,
and I willingly sank into the quicksand of your love.


Thursday, August 21, 2014

Homesick




picture credit: http://www.deviantart.com/art/homesick-303678544


I am homesick to the future
which lives in my every thought and deed,
I can feel the absolute fear and panic
to rescind each word once spoken,
and I can feel tears of regret
rolling down my cheeks...

yet all the while knowing
that this is the only way,
fear can be overcome,
and that the time to leave this place is now,
leave its memories of restriction and domination,
so that I can still this restless soul
that now needs to find her own way home....


 


Wednesday, August 20, 2014

The Hourglass




picture credit: http://www.deviantart.com/art/In-the-Hourglass-39087440


 A silent exchange conveys consent
to eyes reflecting an equal intent
that seamless temptation transcends.
Motion and rhythm, a flawless song,
as the master draws fulfilment
from expectant strings that quiver
and obey his every touch.
Transient moments become their book
of languid stretches in their memory,
as the sand in the hourglass
steadily falls,
consuming this grace in time.