deepundergroundpoetry.com

WE OF TIRED HEARTS

This is what we are
Broken from the rush
Ornate memories
Fragments of what used to be alive
My dark, jaded blood
No longer flows with passion
This stark, cold landscape
Secrets always kept within

This, our longest hour
Lost in the firmament
A prison within the past
Outside, the dead come back to life
Glistening eyes staring
Scattered your daydreams
Your life is one of vanity
Suffocating in your own crucible

Enough
Looking through glass eyelids
Never enough to keep you awake
Sanity's peak, gripping tightly
Misery, your safe opiate
Gateway to a place of solitude
Demons wanting release
Credence of self-destruction
Titillating dead emotions

I remembered
How you've shone, lit up the night
When you smiled, glowed so bright
I'd leave with you till evening died
I'd laugh with you until we cried
Save you from life seldom lived
And negatives we seldom sieved
Remembered how our youth would feel
Remembered when our trust was real

False possessions, hopeless addiction
You found the curse in me
Crimson irides reaching for the rain
Plummet down, to each his own plight

Laughing at me, the trees
Boiling inside
To nearly sublimate
Into faceless crowds
That were never there

In repentance, I stood in the glade
Rejection of all spitefulness, to overcome
Derelict and miserable, prose dismay
Retraction of the haughtiness
I had always proclaimed

Promises remained unkempt
Swept by wind this solstice lent
With dismal yearning left to rot
And dolor did these qualms begot

This is what you are
The iridescent flower
Detached from your core
Writhing in despair, forever more
The snow will fall
Your soul will crawl
Find refuge in my embrace
And it will close around this place

Low is what I am to you
But only when you're fine
Sorry is all I'll say to you
But only when you're mine