Homage

Paying homage through pain and suffering,
any distraction an afront to his memory,
any relief a disgrace to his tenderness;

my love will abide until the falling pall of
darkness flutters to rest upon my eyes, and
the final tear to streak my cheek has dried;

an hourglass of ashes, counting down the
sentence; a condign repentance overflowing
the void, suffocating acceptance within the

throat hushed by broken glass remorse and
voiceless reports of choler and dolor; upon
my heart and mind, restless he will ever be

art: by Eric Lacombe

Turmoil

Bloody knuckles and broken heart,
barbaric breathing in tender breaths,
uneasy lies the head that wears the
frown, weighted memories, life bereft;

wall of innocence, dotted hue, departed
love, the vacuum filled; fester, blister,
boiling blood, dawns the night in
unexpected bruises; now with eyes,

the wall stands judgement, mock the
man in swelling weakness; staring
contests, blaring silence, idle hands
with masters violent; wringing, wanting,

calling out; no succour, no escape,
besieging grief in cryptic reminders;
coherence forsaken, harmony shaken,
turmoil wakes in remembrances taken

art: by Zao Wou-Ki

Mystical

Love, a spellbinding; when then
the incantations abruptly end;
what remains is the shockwave

of a mystical ensorcellment
nettling an atavistic hunger to
consume that which is beyond

the comprehension of the charmed;
an addiction to the enchantment
who answers no worship, obeys

no ritual, and rewards no sacrifice;
it grants only the illusion that
those engagements may unleash

the bewitching magic once again

art: Deliberation by Mario Sanchez Nevado

Obligation

She adores, to her, the gifts he brings
When he frees her mind on colorful wings

She prizes the warmth when given his kiss
The highlight each day that she’d never miss

She treasures his calming her current vexation
He’s always found nurturing her nascent fixation

And she worships the sting of his luscious touch
Though he asks for so little, he gives her so much

To grow ever closer, he need only be fed
A prick for the princess, to him but some red

So her demon may gorge and familiars thereof
Not of obligation, but of wayward hopeless love

art: by John Fernandes

*originally posted as part of a 26 word 26 day challenge

 

Goodbye

Her wordless withdrawal 
was swallowed by the 
groan of the closing door; 
creeping up his spine, 
it delivered a haunting 
death rattle to his ear 
After the door’s throes 
died away, after the 
last echo of its final 
lament, he whispered, in 
eloquence only brevity 
has mastered, Goodbye 

art: Der Blick by Edward B. Gordon