I Wish It Would Rain

I wish it would rain

Bittersweet tears from a crying sky

As midnight’s chill air envelops us

With cascading droplets of emotion

Expressing my emotions for me

 

Ominous thunder like an angry God

Bellowing passionately into the dark

And lightening for sudden illumination

Brilliant supernovas of distress

Etching my sentiments into the clouds

 

A microcosmic apocalypse just for me

A turbulent release to set me free

A tantrum, a meltdown, a melodramatic wailing

Goetia, an epic symphony of lament

Just to ease me

 

Settle my repressed distress

And cleanse these unrelenting thoughts

Express this damn chaos for me, please

I wish the sky would cry

Its tears lulling me to sleep

 

Cruelty

Breathless, vacant, fresh but fading

Faint warmth rapidly depleting

Energy released, never to be recaptured

A mind, a pattern, never to be replaced

Cautious footsteps, stepped once too far

One sideways glance that saw too much

An instant, a flash, a rush of violence

Stillness, silence, a brief candle snuffed

No laughter, no tears, just reflection

A warmth-less acknowledgement it was done

Sleepless cruelty doesn’t stop to see

Erase, acquire, and then move along

Wide staring eyes, dry, still, and dead

Mouth agape and hands at her side

Trickling blood, from where I won’t say

Bruised broken skin and one blunted spade

Human, heart-beat, hushed little love

Disappear, decay, and evaporate

Leave us, leave them, loose all your time

Humans, horrors, eat, kill, and desecrate.

Beautiful Things

Such lovely stories from the eyes of your mind.

Such touching expressions you stain into my heart.

Your passions, confessions, fantasies, and fears

Like tender glances from your innermost thought.

It’s hard not to love these glimpses at your soul,

To empathize with all your pains and projections.

That you could expose them to such a cruel world

and they could reach someone like me, is precious.

Too much do I wander through days, uninspired.

Savoring what little beauty I can find,

So writers and artists like you are a pleasure

For animating those fragments of your creative mind.

As long as we suffer, we can always bleed beauty.

As long as we love, we can always paint hearts.

Whatever we see, our minds will never cease,

To transform our perceptions into pieces of art.

I’ve always been enamored with beautiful things,

Things that stir passions, provoke emotion, and inspire.

An open heart creates, and whispers words into another.

Connections are created from those loves and desires.

Together we transcend the confines of physicality,

Imaginative souls carrying worlds to explore.

To be honest, this intimacy is simply described,

It’s the beautiful things of your mind I adore.

 

 

A Hymn For Eris

One fickle second

Of mad fortune’s tastes

To cripple your empire

And spoil your grace.

Such calculated systems

On sadistic order based

So proud and so erect

So ripe to be erased.

You wait, oh so patient

As your power accumulates.

You measure, oh so careful

As your path illuminates.

In one fickle second

Every effort goes to waste.

Every plan and every conquest

Exploding in your face.

All discipline is vain,

All masters are replaced.

A single fickle second

Is all it even takes.

Every certain truth is only ever partly so,

The Golden Apple Goddess smiles, for she knows.

To those who struggle desperately for some sense of control,

Discordia’s afflux, both above and so below.

 

Give Up Or Go On

The drive of life wants to kill me.

Regrets, desires, and most profound depression,

Tormenting every idle second of the day,

Strangling emotion and distorting my perceptions.

All these lovesick and battered human-beings,

These patient sufferers and aggravated beasts,

Painfully clinging to their needs and desires,

Everyday pushing their will until it breaks.

These heart-broken, lonely, and distressed human-creatures,

Desperately striving for some comfort and love,

Vulnerable and exposed for those who would use them,

Forced to be strong, to be brave, to be thought of.

Why don’t they collapse and refuse to get up?

Why don’t they stop and just scream “That’s enough!?”

Why, when they do, do they still cling to life?

Why are we defined by the things that we fight?!

It feels like the drive of life wants to kill me.

My sicknesses and struggles still pound in my head.

Disappointments, failures, and bloodletting traumas,

Unceasingly torture me. I’m alone in my bed.

 

Alone… Frightened… Starving and weak.

 

Then I remember how much we’re the same.

I realize what little self-worth we live in.

I realize how pained I’d be if you ever gave up.

I’ll go on for you, because I want love to win.

 

 

 

 

Weak And Starving

I know you’re starving

Your supply of love has withered

And you’re craving for affection

But pretending to be indifferent.

I know you’re scared

Who could blame you if they knew

After all that you’ve been through

Asking for love would seem precarious.

I know you’re hiding

Wearing a mask to protect yourself

Concealing your needs from the vultures

And projecting your strongest face.

I know you’re tired

Exhausted from playing these games

Hardening and freezing your heart

As it begs to open up and bleed.

You’ve learned how easily a tender heart can wound,

How anyone that loves you knows just where you’re weak.

People forcing people to shelter their desires,

Preying on each other for that taste of love we seek.

I know how well you’re guarded, I recognize the signs.

I know the risks involved with trying to score some love.

I know we’re on alert for any weakness in another,

Waiting for our chance to steal away some of that drug.

I understand, I see you, and I know we’re all afraid.

I really need a taste myself before I fade away.

If we could call a truce, set our fears and worries free,

I’ll lick all of your wounds if you’ll do the same for me.