I, desperately.
Date: Sunday, 3rd August 2008 @ 03:27:51 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry


Contributed By: elle

I, desperately avoiding. . .

almost singed

by the closeness, once at hand,

of loves' heat, now turned

shimmering delight. . .

for the sum of a mere man.

the bellows seem so comforting

as they affront, ignite

loves' trivial assumption

cast upon lusts' appetite.

as sparks float upward & fetter off

amassing. . . twinkling

in the sky,

a reoccurring seclusion

of seductions' paradise.

masked & then unveiled

as something kin to vice.

the thinnest tracing of a tear. . .

the ascention of our grace,

the recoiling of our fear.

a profound provocation

of a lullaby, hushed, now laced. . .

a sound rising in some distance

with resurgence of our longing,

a soft & timid reminding of a day

when nothing could challenge

the tenderness,

the stark beauty of your face.

I cradle up this knowledge,

& struggle only

to kneel to our desire.

the fierce heat of my wanting

consuming us like fire.

not the heat of the bare moment

but the warmth of our intent

with angels' sweet, attending,

a lifetimes' love is spent.

I, desperately surrender. . .

I am surrendering

even now

to this fragile moments' task,

the humbling of the fiercest hearts.

to give up our secrets,

we must be exacting. . . discover where they start.

to take it off, this tragic mask,

to what lies just beneath.

behold truth is an offering.

can you grasp it, hold it close?

can you feel the gentleness,

it offers

as all the outcomes come & go?

a new dawn breaks, awaits

so I constitute, with will,

a gypsy relevance &

a kaleidoscope

funneling,

design meant to attempt.

relinguishing escape. . . barely able. . .

barely bent. . .

barely knowing. . .

if I'm safe

or suffocating

from the loss of innocence.

confronted by

loves' primal misconception,

the pit of needing to possess.

the dark & cloudy resemblance

of complacencies' deepest depth. . .

I falter as an offering

as each breath, I do concede.

my freedom, it is burning

all the bridges. . .

to my needs.




This poem is Copyright © elle



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