Loving You is a Drug

Loving you is a drug

I know I should quit you

But the further I stay clear

The more I want you near.

Loving you is like a black potion

Effervescent, implicit

So much I don’t wish to commit to stay

Yet here I am again.

Loving you is a hurt I yearn for everyday

In bed I lie in bed awaiting your return

Your sultry voice whispering my name

That also comes with your touch.

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That Lonely Place

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There is a place
Where only the best memories go
Forlorn,  despite its love
Hearts and minds can only but dream
To linger like a lonesome stalk
A peace which resides in us all
If only we could just be still
Shut our minds and ears from
The day’s hurt and pain
Maybe we can find it again
It is never too late.

BurnYourLove

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Watch me burn,
My witness will be the sun:
Rip through my carbon
All this potion of hate and misery,
Already Death stalks us all
Lest I best it at its own game
Perhaps the Devil welcomes me quick,
Angels won’t tread, never will they,
Where Osiris once slept with Jupiter.

Kiss me then leave
Behind all we want to forget,
Let not one tear linger
Here that ashes choose to survive
Love and all, I have nothing no more,
I go forth like Job into the desert night
Awaiting the dawn of time
When we shall no more be apart.

A Poem for Mercy

Clover Leaf

In the days when often I am lost in my Great Depressive state, I wonder a lot about pain and hurt, and the yearning sadness of Man. Would ever I sought forgiveness for wrongs I’ve done in the past, how would ever I be forgiven? From these moments of pain I beg for Mercy to free me at least from my lengthy depressive state.

A Poem for Mercy

In the end, my Lord,

Our lives got sucked out

Crushed by your jackboots

On the gray roads to Hades

And now as we stand before you

Naked before your throne

All that remains of our mocked souls

Carried away over these slouching hills

On the breasts of fallen angels.

Lord, give us no water to drink

Nor food to quench our hunger

As our body glimmers

With sores from the Flagellant’s whip.

Instead of death,

Carry me to Calvary

Nailed to a cross

And let my skin rot

To the dust from whence it crawled from.