Fog of Loneliness

Cruel Fate, will she hate her own nightmares of my reality–
with my body as fallen Azrael’s coffin.
She Slaughter’s my truest loved feelings for her with no questions?
If tears drown me too darkly, my breath leaves forever!

Do I wordlessly seep visceral loneliness scorned upon me from afar!
Condemn that spiritual bloodshed that she strikes me with her soul and narrow, unfeeling self-combative words of her other unnatural tongue.

Darken eyed she stares like sickening Persephone’s flax hair flows in existential mountain wind.
Gazed through, dead snow-tipped branches of cruel, eternal winter times I submit to.
she bars me to from her heart with unreason of another’s words.

Black inks ruin and run like the deep wound of my heart, by such vengeful acid by my truths foul Dismay.
The hate I take of the Earth born Lilith’s clouded, hidden fangs
and blackly drown unearthly, obsessive dark look they have for me.
In that the uncaring joy of my pitiful silent of my shattered Hearted screams of being for more alone.

How shall I decompose my spirit and soul?
–its hell of this poetry as roses dissipate I shall.
The ethereal fog of my minds unwanted disarray.
shadow of my single soul.
I darkly seep to oblivious loneliness.

Ian V. Seymour ©2008

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