Hello my darkness

Hello my darkness it’s me again.

Awaiting warmth and deeper sin.

Goodbye light, you were too bright.

I’ll replace you now with fading sight.

Because missing you more this way.

Makes it easier not to stay.

Hello the darkness it’s been awhile.

Depression linked like perfect tile.

My old friend where have you been?

My old enemy, I cannot win.

-OM

44.1

Force

I could push my words till they tumble and fall.

Watch them sparkle, or not at all.

Would they beckon, can you hear the call?

A clarion sound I hope you saw.

How much force would it take?

To make my words move and feel them shake.

To give them a life of their own.

To give them my life and make them shown.

-OM

44.1

Personal

I could watch the setting sun till the day was done. But would I watch the rising moon or find my exit too soon.

Could I let the passing hours into my heart or let it sour. Like an aging wine until inside I rewind.

I’d rest my right hand upon my heart and feel a tremble start to start. Finding a way into my soul past the anger and inner toll.

Can you see the rising light past the name it seems to fight. Moon or sun it comes around, a new day to be found.

-OM

44.1

A Nod to Poe

How sweet is the tender touch as I caress your every limb.

Our lips meet and thoughts collide on each and every sin.

Even as I take you into my warm embrace.

I smother the image by destroying your very grace.

Transforming now our reality to fantasy.

Pain brings the passion to ecstasy.

You shudder, I feel you tremor to your bones.

A sweet sensation adding to the quiet undertones.

Softly now, gently I lay you down.

I board you up inside with the golden crown.

And there dies the buried light.

Another name, another dove takes flight.

-OM

The Killing Field


The children run and play amongst the broken bones.

Roses grow and butterflies fly above our fallen foes.

We cannot escape as much as we turn from the past.
Our feet shuffle and toes squish amongst the fallen ash.

Tears of those dead have watered that line of oaks.
They pull in each drop as the rag soaks.

And with each sun more souls are added still.
Into the killing field until the ground is fully filled.

-OM

44.1

Summerset

I saw a summerset upon a dream that was not met.

An object of possibilities, drenched in ideas I bleed.

I pondered upon a golden ticket, hoping some scheme would set.

But forged in fire I had let, a silver ticket is all I met.

It’s not a tragedy when my dear dreams meet misery.

It’s just how it was meant to be as sad songs from me seem to flee.

Back to the forge to dream, a new dream of possibility.

Or give up on being me and let the darkness in you see.

-OM

44.1