deepundergroundpoetry.com
Part Time Lover
The Night's eyes are berated by blood diamond dust,
struck almost unknowingly, blinded by this fact, crack the whip to
keep the martyrdom at bay.
An iron curtain is draped over the scene to hide the nightmare.
The Night sleeps with the Day to take away the pain,
the satin sheets caress her wounds of battle and the soft strokes of her hair cleanse the memories.
The stars are a lonely place to play.
The majestic pain of love is silenced by pain-killers and wine.
The Day sleeps on the bosom of Night, contrite.
struck almost unknowingly, blinded by this fact, crack the whip to
keep the martyrdom at bay.
An iron curtain is draped over the scene to hide the nightmare.
The Night sleeps with the Day to take away the pain,
the satin sheets caress her wounds of battle and the soft strokes of her hair cleanse the memories.
The stars are a lonely place to play.
The majestic pain of love is silenced by pain-killers and wine.
The Day sleeps on the bosom of Night, contrite.
Published 2nd Sep 2013
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