Killing Joke
Killing Joke
And so it seems
Love in its absence has come again to taunt
Laughing at the vacant dream
It has so cunningly wrought
Its life a threadbare of promise
Built upon such loneliness
Has delivered to these nights
Yet again in its toss and turning sleepless
Empty of love of kisses spent
The void embrace
Teases easily with its covenant
And fervent, wills the wish to be
Mocking
Always
Its very own
Hope
Liar of touch
Untruth of flesh and blood
Once more of love
Within its emptiness proclaims
Burns for its own humour
Such an inconsequential thing as life
Tossed like a scrap upon its fire
To appease its god like countenance
Love
With no other demeanour other than torture
Shackles onto these cruelties
Its chain of fate
Merely to dig in its barb-ed spike
And rob peace to tumult
Defies even itself
For the sake of a killing joke
So sadness it can feed upon
And think worthy still is its cause
Even under torment
Love finds a face to haunt
It will, of your heart remain regardless
Pretend to eternal fulfillment
But leave you as barren
As my empty arms
Copyright © Colin Mitchell Williams | Year Posted 2009
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