Just a poem I wrote off the cuff . |
ll alone the curtains drawn , the night is near the sky not clear, The darkest thoughts run through the mind , the lighter thoughts seem less than kind, I think of the boy who fell behind , his silent breath shivers down my spine . There is no robin red breast here , no autumn wind , or Christmas cheer , I heard a ghost not far from here singing songs of fathers fear . A glass in hand so warped and sick , the little child buried in the pit.. Across the room a woman smiles , her empty eyes so sad and wild . I want to take her to my nest , to touch her body and feel her breath . She seems so beaten so sad and willing , so ready for her ill fated end . So transparent the little girl inside , drowned out by the torture of broken dreams , and lustful spite . I felt her lust and shaky touch as she looks right through my weary eyes .. In the moment, i find peace two empty souls who dared to meet. Yet no rejoice no jaded tears , just jilted ghosts who new the fear . It could be heaven or the hell , perhaps just a shabby old room in mans hotel . So up in smoke went all the ghosts , to beyond , to where ghosts go , to whirl alone in Dantes cave , with the memories of torture , lust and pain . |