Friday, December 31, 2010

55 - my soul is bleeding

In these minutes past the hour
of the darkest time of the night,
my soul is weeping
for the dreams discarded,
carelessly flung into the flaming sunset
of a shattered reflection.
And my soul is bleeding
for the trust betrayed,
sullied by the kisses at New Year's turn,
from the one with the poisoned tongue.

every friday, compose a short story of 55 words - no more, no less. if you want to join in the fun and games and give it a your story and report to the boss G-Man

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Wasted promises

I’m shocked by the tears that are falling like rain
when I see what is really behind
the fa├žade you’ve created, and had me believe,
to be you, the one whom I love.
And an icy hand grips my heart,
twists while a knife
shreds the years into wasted promises,
as I see my existence
shimmer like a mirage,
when the mind of a trickster erases my reality
and reveals the barren wasteland
of a life that is but a charade.

Sunday, December 26, 2010

The silence of the shadows

Breathe a deep sigh in the silence of the shadows,
become still as you drink in the night,
savor the solitary moments alone
with the magical touch of moonlight.
Feel as it weaves through you, cleansing your thoughts,
removing the grit and the grime
that's tainting your vision, containing your soul,
in the distance the old church bells chime.
Watch as the ribbons untie and fall,
one by one, they allow your release,
and you soar into velvety arms that reign
in a space of content that won't cease.
So as this day nods its head towards the dusk,
I welcome the coming night,
brought by the heavens, kissed by the stars,
to this dark I submit without fight.

picture credit:

Friday, December 10, 2010

Escaping the madness

Distress builds a cloud in these once carefree eyes,
overwhelming the need to erect a disguise,
remove from the consciousness these blatant lies
and withdraw to the edge of the world.

Where the silky soft silence surrounds like a cloak,
shrouding your presence behind opaque smoke,
the phony carousing releases the yoke
of deception that smothers your soul.

And you breathe icy air yet unspoiled by the grime
of the souls that are lost, where the moon doesn't shine,
where the power that rules is a maze in forged time,
where alone, you uncurl from this haze.

picture credit: