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Black Teaparty

A black bar placed on passion,
Thoughts writhing in a sinister fashion...
What am I working for?
Is this agony something more?

Atrophied ambitions
Implode with indignant questionings,
Echoing, into the void that is my hollow form,
While itīs slowly festering.

Object of my adulation,
Hidden in cocoon,
Reserving beauty to itself,
Eternities too soon.

Shut me out...
Or lock me in.
Self impose this sainthood,
To deny that I am sin.

This peaceful repose boils insanity,
I am the dead kettle...

Teatime is at twilight.

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Comments


  • Anemone-Rose
    January 14, 2009
    Edit | Reply
    left me speechless.......


  • estbelle gold member
    January 13, 2009

    Edit | Reply
    Object of my adulation,
    Hidden in cocoon,
    Reserving beauty to itself,
    Eternities too soon.

    like beauty is sometimes a curse

    I love this one and the idea of teatime at twilight


  • Jasmine Minx
    April 18, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    at midnight you drink the despair of those that die. midnight is a between day and night or night and morning time. if i could i would drink a cup of death with you.

    Ali