This is a poem that was written to unleash the devil in me. Read through to find more |
ONE NIGHT STAND ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Paths untrodden, houses abandoned, Empty footwalks, all silence no talks, Weeping frightened breeze, Your spine it might freeze, The hoots of the owl, The night that howls, The chastened moonlight, Slowly dying in the night... The sight of unruffled leaves, The astir shadows of non-existing trees... A soft tap knocks my door, I ask, "Hello!! Who's there on the floor?" "I'm lost", he answers, "A shelter I seek- 'Tis cold outside and I'm bleak." I bring an old candle With a wispy dying flame, Now for him any other night Would never be the same again. The door opens And the bells chime- With the mournful tinkles of the night They very well rhyme... With a gust of wind The flames flare And he catches in my blue eyes A warm, blazing gaze. He adorns his face With a handsome grin And then he receives one On his way in... He looks at the locks That block my eyesight; Blown off by the wind They blend well with the night... He sits on a chair His eyes unmoved- My shy eyelids open Confessing I'm allured... More smiles are shared, Stealthy looks are caught, Through the hushed silence Closer we're brought. He asks for water- An unfulfilled wish; For I lie thirsty here Thriving on crumbs that lie in a broken dish... The candle burns on, Its flame yet alive; Stale air all around- Now reflecting the dim light. So close we are I can feel him breathe; I lie here so cold And I can feel his heat... His hand slowly moves and touches mine,- A cold shudder moves down his spine; His throat is then sliced neatly Oh!! Merciless knife, can't hear him whine! As blood trickles down his neck And his collar with it is drenched, My cold tongue tastes its warmth And my thirst for the moment is quenched... Slowly I walk toward the door, Waiting for another call from that floor- Maybe years would pass before another smite But for me an aeon is just as long as this night... So I sit on a chair, A captive in my own lair- My cold youth would always gleam Forever in the dead candle beam... Paths Untrodden, houses abandoned Empty footwalks, all silence no talks..... |