The Dreams of Lovers in the Crimson Sky

In the crimson sky,

The verses of two lovers breathe,

Gently, hands entwined,

At the seat of eternity.

Their song, whispers through the world

Like the scent of a rose.

The beasts of hell

Whimper at the whisper

Of their unified voice.

A dream, a sweet honeycombed dream.

Where the veils of mystery are swept away

With a single note

Of their glorified beauty.

A beauty, so vivid, so enchanting.

That a lonesome drop of its essence

Would destroy that city of Angels.

But I, whose heart was forever cracked

With the misery of this poisonous world.

Whose eternity was smeared,

With the disfigured and tarred disdain of those enemies.

I opened my eyes,

And with that speck of truthful,

Razor blade light,

Glimpsed a shimmer of that dream.

My heart blessed and soul healed.

I took up my sword,

I left this world behind,

I joined that dream,

With you in the crimson sky.

Institutionalised Prison

The place of the damned

Is but the crumbling fabric of our ageing mind.

Depleting, suffering mind.

However it extenuates,

To the harrowed grounds

Of this childhood place.

Transmuting those,

Whose bare feet are swallowed

By the overpowering green mounds,

Moulding their mind into negation.

Although its nurturing hand sculpted these words,

Its tiresome flesh rots sour with the plague of rats.

Engulfing lives

And history.

Under the arches,

The echoed slap underfoot celebrates dubiously in your ears

Whilst a myriad of

Inverted faces

Stare back

Lavishly caressing their mirrors.

Lady Fortune however

Is not faithful to those,

Whose only master is themselves.

And the cuckoldry head of reality will slip,

Treacherously bleeding their eyes

Towards Ophelia’s Lake.

Th’unseen truth

Of the house of the dead

Will surface.

Leaving a wake of bloodied victims.

Whose inverted faces will snap their necks

As the light of life draws near.

Funny how time heals

So as I was going through all my old, accumulated junk, in preparation for German migration when I come accross some poetry, which I had written about three years ago at my former school.

I couldn't believe how dark and sinister my writing was and what a heart crushing experience I went through. So I thought it was only fair to give its right on my blog. Because as we all now who we really are, are sometimes only the battles we have fought.

This detour and mild distraction from the music will only be brief.

True the shot was,

Which pierced my fortified soul,

The serene softness of her lips,

Wished on the winds of my love,

Sensual seductions searching for the rhythm of my heart.

The walls of my soul

Fell deeper

Than those of our first parents.

The sweet sound of her love flared my nostrils,

Too greedily. I drank.

As the quiescent beauty of angels

Hid my vision from demons, ravaging

For the acrid drop of my pain.

Loves lullaby.

Softly filtered melodically into the phantasm of purple caves.

So deep its caves that our breaths

Mingled

And within the entwined roots of our fingers,

Our blood passed.

One celestial being.

Ascended by loves caressing hands.

Times golden coat,

The shard of light,

Enhanced,

Beautified,

Illuminated our waterfall.

Its shimmering rays of nectar,

Purged and purified nightmares of the past.

Its hazy synaesthesiatic pleasure,

Enveloped my mind.

Extended its hand.

Formed subtle rainbows with its

Beauteous pearls of sweat.

To take me home.

But harder

Its pummelled vice-like…

My head cracked,

My foot stuck in the lair of its crevices,

Corroded me,

Like the other rocks.

Smoke rose high around me,

Her supple body

Suffocated by the cars.

Scrambling

Desperate

Tasting the mud for her perfume,

Smeared visions.

I looked up through the myriad

Of faceless faces

Her hand is in his.