Withered like the dying rose - shedding crimson over the window pane of my soul;
another broken promise told through ungrateful lips;
one more idle threat by tattered faults,
these pewter eyes mirror the torture which you've forced me to endure.
Another burden placed upon trembling shoulders
without so much as gratification or acknowledgement -
this mannequin corpse built up just so you can demolish it
like the loveless Valentine that you are.
Midnight screams bellow through my dormant mind
like an undead siren singing of an enchanting death
and mock the phantom silhouette of my soul -
blasphemous and jaded in futile anguish.
Stuck in this never ending dream of blasted purgatory -
a once vintage soul now cut down in it's prime -
an angel fallen with tainted wings now clipped;
crying arsenic tears and calling out in lithium moans.
A tunnel of confusion lit dimly by the faint beam at the end,
a demented soul traveling; glistening with the ghost of a tortured past;
wandering aimlessly through cobwebs of insanity in false hope
to find answers hidden deep within labrynth walls.
Broken reflections beam off the ground of a damanged soul -
a body dropping onto weakened knees in search of guidance -
in search of an answer to the astral parallels of a damned mind
and crying out in an utmost, heartwrenching cry.
A bittersweet symphony plays as the memories flood me -
playing an endless sonata as numbing as novacaine;
one by one the images flood like a turning of a page
to reveal the reasoning behind an ill forsaken soul.
Author notes
This is going to be a series of poems about my past - all events from here on out are based on actual events.
Do not judge me or think you know me. What you will see if you continue reading the rest of the Broken Promises series will shock you and it will come in time.
[Click next in list if you really want to know.]
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Comments
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Wow, this is very good, and dark. I could relate to some of this at a time in my life and I'm sure others' possibly can as well. I loved your word use, it added a lot more meaning. Great piece, and keep it up.
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What a powerful work!
Well done here Kris! Emotional work and great use of words. I look forward to reading more from you. THANKS!
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Stuck in this neveredning dream of blasted purgatory -
a once vintage soul now cut down in it's prime -
Never ending*
Ok im done nitpicking. Well written, very powerful and im glad, when i finally decide to read poems again I chose yours, and it made me remember why I loved to read. Great job Kris, You are a strong writer, and you make us all feel your anguish and such when reading. Keep penning!
♥
Always
Emily
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