Archaic Attempts

Monday, March 15, 2010 by B.H.
>> Dead…
Thou pinched into the core of my heart,
Bereft of life, I am falling apart…
Over the parapets and into the sky-
Flew my agonies very high,
The air around, I inhale-
Ignite my sheets sans thee…
I cry in pain and implore,
Allay my pain! O unfaithful!
I burn in thy untrue deeds…
I yearn to cease the ache of my sheets…
I little care of death after thee…
I was fearful of only losing thee,
Slowly then I close my eyes…
No more me, but my corpse…



>> Winter Phobia
And so my foe, thou hast come
Being so bitter – thou dost weaken my sun
Thy keen winds oft blow to cage me in
Like unseen phantoms as fruit to Adam’s sin…
And shivering cold – for warmth, they hog
As life walks on misty lands, through dense fog,
But for thy golden sunshine I dost pray,
In thy bright suns, I seek Eden…
And I wail to cease thy tooth’s bite-
Wail and hide myself from thy dark suns…
And thy venom oozes, drench my roads,
I see black before my sight and pray to God…
I wait until the end of thee, and when thou go-
Grant me mere few months until another show…
Shakespeare would understand not my phobia,
For he would write it, "As man’s ingratitude"…

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