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No – longer
She said she won’t set herself on fire for me no more.
I surrendered, to every word and whisper,
Triangles of empty promises,
Frozen in deceit,
Your liquid fire no-longer scolds,
For in your amour in once did mould,
Your shape’s now pathetic, lost and weak.
Your eyes no-longer bear a soul, no remains for me to seek – just a wasting freak.
Your shadow may have once defined the pathways of my thoughts, but I ask you this time my love,
No-longer, No more.
Addiction
Crusting embers let fall to the ash,
The dim glow,
A reminiscence of a once devouring heat,
Eyes drawn tight from slumber,
This fire offers a whispering murmur,
To those who seek comfort of a disconcerting nature.
Which chord strikes the note; desirable?
The myth of an unbreakable format?
While the tired facade of reality sobs,
Soundless – out of sight, out of mind.
And netherless we fail to realise,
This is the potent face we fear to ostracise,
Perhaps it’s not yet close enough to kin?
The empire’s treasure glitters from tainted mirrors,
Refracted from the dictator’s angle,
To convince the porns of the beauty brigade,
That the only light of the prism worth seeing is that which entices man.
Usually a sultry tinge of purple stains to create the mask.
In parallel with knowledge; if not correctly displayed, it is trapped within.
The beholder looks on with a doubtful eye – the media’s iris seeded the foreign body is not our own.
And will we set out to divert this jaded perception? Or lay on our backs for more.