when everything else fails

Posts tagged “hopeless

Innocence Wanted

lost innocence imprisoned cries for times of past
where believing everything is true forever did last
frosted face pressed by this window this pane of cold glass
lay thinking of gold and silver in this land of pale graying brass

gold and silver shining like pure and heavenly auburn
dreamed about sunsets on an emerald grassy meadow
wished to be pure and untainted a child freshly born
to smile and laugh that tinkling laugh when time did allow

run around to steal soft kisses from dew clad grass
then an innocent heart counted time for a day to pass
but not for an end but just for sparkling stars to shine high
to hear silent lullabies light years ago etched in this sky

now here lays this frozen face pressed on cold glass
thinking of broken love lost friends and a betrayed past
counting coins to meet ends of life in pain ever last
dreaming of innocence lost drop by drop as time did pass

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I Sip A Bitter Cocktail

every drop tastes in bitterness divine
every tear freezes harder where cheeks align
with dearest death oh sweetness i entwine
with feelings drowned in sorrow i shall resign

pure love is a failed campaign for glory
where that cup of victory is a hard sip
lay groveling in sand dirtied in details gory
is the only victory your hand will dip

countless are the lies set in absent shame
clouded minds made all mistakes done in heat
when you are a two who will take the blame
will you or your other one still beloved in defeat

in hollow anger shame flies like autumn birds
fleeing from approaching terrible winter dates
in that absent shame let forth violent words
like a lake hugged in freezing wintered fate

lay groveling in sand of defeat this cold november
in reminiscence of glory days when time flies
in bitterness an empty smile i remember
and will lay freezing when every fleck of light dies

resigned from life this empty shell becomes me
now lay weeping of days with happier dealings
how a mighty oak gives way to a cold axe in fury
chip by chip every sorrow strikes with harder feelings

this november final flowers of a season blooms and wither
count those fragile petals before wind blows them away
reality is a frame lost in reason and doused bitter
death is a cocktail that tastes better come your final day

in shivering cold i count each cycle of day and night
just empty numbers meant for dying petals by the lake
and count and sip every drop divine till i loose the fight
oh tears shall freeze harder my dearest when death shall take


The Wanderer

this pale heart weeps
in bitterness enshrined
these feet hardy and tough
through vast distance they walked
now trembles at every step
knees sinking to crumbling depths

these hands gave life
to those now long departed
now holds a stick sturdy
to keep this wanderer walking
these ancient eyes
now clouded cannot see

where lies the key
to unlock the answer

this body lashed in thousands
for heresy uncommitted
to a living hell banished
in eternal pain this crumbling body wails
and in this pale heart tainted blood fails
to keep this wanderer walking

so where lies the key
to unlock the answer

between endless stretches of sand
lies vast oceans no ship ever sails
red sun shines brighter this dying land
alight this fire steams life into vapor
with bitterness this parched throat cries
for unsalted water

clouded eyes see ancient forests dying
trembling feet walks on falling leaves burning
on this ashen ground lay a tired wanderer
in tears vanishing to vapor sizzling
with bitterness this parched throat cries
for unsalted water

where lies the key to unlock the answer
this clouded sight cannot forever see
and time counts in drops of water
needed to keep this wanderer walking


The Schizoid Suspect

they came every night in shrill voices
to talk about me how dull am i
in manic laughter to expose my vices
in my head tearing my every sigh

drained by every effort to shut their lies
now lay chained i am a promethean son
like a burning cauldron this pale mind cries
it stirs and boils till broth is done

their gaze left me in catatonic states
in this glass house they recited my every move
what became of me are there darker fates
on the witness stand my insanity they proved


Pantoum: Lines In Water

where are the lines i drew in water
nowhere to find in this crystalline sheet
in shame i will bury my head further
with my tongue a lingering bitterness meet

nowhere to find in this crystalline sheet
i buried myself in water head deep
with my tongue a lingering bitterness meet
leaving me choking while shivers creep

i buried myself in water head deep
searching in vain for my silvery lines
leaving me choking while shivers creep
from far away for me a bell chimes

searching in vain for my silvery lines
my pounding heart screams in despair
from far away for me a bell chimes
lines i drew must be buried somewhere

my pounding heart screams in despair
in shame i will bury my head further
lines i drew must be buried somewhere
where are the lines i drew in water


Yet Another Poem In Vain

my poetry is stale like
meat of my ischemic heart
ripped by yet another last strike
but why i still pen this poetic art

because i gave love another chance
and lost my last bit of sanity
again let myself dance that dance
and lose myself from reality

so i write about tears like i did before
but this time the game is different
these are for the one i still adore
even though i can’t bear this torment

endless tears come easy this time
again i shall do my salty ocean worth
just to drown once more in my crime
of sweet hate and rip my heart forth

should write some words about my lost heart
stale meat yet tireless till time to depart
pumps my soul, yeah still does it’s part
oh faithful beat, but don’t tear me apart

i wrote of loss, yet another poem in vain
this ink will disappear when it does rain
but rain will not wash away this black stain
of a dying heart beating in a painful refrain


COPD (Last Breath)

his eyes spoke volumes
between labored breaths
when our eyes met, i tried to smile
and he saw deeper into me
the words i didn’t express
he knows his past
the ominous signs
his failings he now regrets
his redemption is past tense
to my trained sense

and when everyone around
speaks of bygone days
he knows his breaths are numbered
a cylinder holds within
and slowly measure and deliver
the last air he will breath
he saw beyond my false assurances
and it puts me to shame
he knows i’m fake
that i’m not his savior