Pestilence

“Pestilence”

I have not drifted over my Haven of ruins
For fragility to wake me while I’m dreaming.
What are all the reasons for the sunshine
Of this beautiful day inside my mind?
It’s a magical scene that I had locked away
Through veils of rain that some call tears,
And, quite by accident, it has dawned on me today,
For I see the door has been opened on the tomb
Where I have tried so hard to bury this willful pestilence.

What has dragged our souls across the haunted glass?
Soundly slumbering in the forbidden kiss of such shards,
I might try to hide: to recoil into your wounds
Where you long for me to lie and to protect
All the things you are afraid to let go of
With all the dead things you will not allow to die.

The specter of our tears will haunt us tomorrow.
So sweet, yours from my eyes, and mine from yours.
How ill have we become that we must taste such ghosts as ours?
Sometimes I cannot help but smile at such poison.
I’m even fond of such flavors as I dare not swallow.
But I fear I cannot be the one to mend your heart.
It is a secret place…and none may enter
While you are not willing to guide.

© 2022 Marten Hoyle