My Dear

And all ye who come and stay,
The muse that parts at bay,
This lint of cloth away
Could never pour my heart away,
In an ocean of tears I obey,
This lasting word I come to say: Read More

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Like the shade,
Along the bay,
Too cold to bleed,
Too long to read,
Now he’s gone,
Now she’s done,
Now he’s back,
Now she’s alive.

Beloved Hatred

She slaps to the left, to the right,
My love here is not worth the fight,
Mine hour in public is come for new,
In my glowed eyes her eye follows
Whilst one pitied and one in scorn,
Every day of life was reborn.
Echoes from the club were music,
Mine heart fused to beat off the wick
Ere light aflame my face how spat
Brought her arms on my neck now sat
By stronger force no man to defy that,
She offered tender words my true self, Read More

His Words

But no god adorned,
So few but kindred fair,

Alas my honest word is not,
Then cast me aside, alas;

Who could not for love help,
For prey is near, I am whole,

Lest I may be, yet safe bestowed,
Is for not so safe, for lack is born;

Ere born mine earnest hope begone,
But do no harm as more gone ye seek,

I tremble with every step I walk, Read More

Our Light of Woe

There, is light but none and he,
He, but is not the light I knew,

These dims that call me from far,
Is far from him as light never was,

Though mine heart is ill and conjured,
Though conjured is little said but mourn,

Ere morn, my morn is the evening hollow,
Is God more the light and dark too still?

Alas, of the night my light is utter spent,
Is ill before and my sight is hinder lent,

Free are the chains to chain him in time,
In time he shall enter the crossroads lone, Read More

Further yet

Then it was the confusion that made more,
In still talk the verbal scum brought bore,
Little was to be said but profane words,
And soon in the night were broken worlds,
Ere come was she in banshee took to rise,
Whose only heart could not amount in size,
As ice she littered words over warm heart,
So much not even cupid could throw the dart,
With tears mounting away with clogged nose,
Is no sight more poorly her soul but froze?
To cling on hope for words alone to say,
And when her heart is squeezed she’ll pray,
For every blood poured is her terror in wait,
At the touch of fate she is but merely bait, Read More