Sepulchre of Snow

VirginiaPoe

In the night I hither and thither

In hopes of growing fonder

Of the darkness that I do wander

With desires to grow accustomed

To the situation of “My Grief”

 

These city’s street lights love

To play tricks with my shadow

It waxes and then grows narrow

With the additional company

Of those watching “My Grief”

 

The snow banks ever upward

Threatening to upon me spiral

I downward struggle in denial

In a blunder to reunite

Postmortem with “My Grief”

 

The stone tablets project themselves

Through a temporary layer

Another burden they must bear

Although they remain quiet

Respectfully silent for “My Grief”

 

I find the sepulchre to which

I am most unwillingly familiar

Finally I sit down near her

Once again love is reunited

Passionately freezing “My Grief”

Self-deprecation

Writing used to be my escape

A tonic to heal me when I felt faint

Now I realise that it was a trick of fate

To catch me blinded in my head-strong trait

Deceived to think that it would be an open gate

Only to realize that I’ve rushed in− I’ve taken the bait

That’s why now, my very soul is the one that I most hate

Candle

one candle

Little flame

Burning in the night

Keep on burning

Keep these eyes alight

Wax on melting

Hot tears do you cry

Do you cry of fear

When wick no longer ignite

Or from firey passion

That love keep burning bright

Please continue to shine

For selfish am I

Why ask when I am captor

Who holds hostage your light

He’s on Top

She loved to make lists.

Her favorite one was

About things that she loved,

But could also harm her:

Vipers, scorpions, bears and sharks

Thorns, claws, talons and burrs

Tigers, tarantulas, wasps and hawks

Guns, swords, chemicals and liquor.

That’s where she placed him,

At the very top of the page.