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Clive Winslow Poem
In emptyness of this bed I feel the cold bite into my skin.
Curtains flow with the chilly breeze.
Turning in endless unrest her spirt haunts me even in these moments.
As memories replay keeping me awake shadows
fill this moonlit room I see her form move across
the to which just outta reach she does stay.
watching over me till the first light of day.
Darkest night you conceal that which I cannot say.
fragments of a soul erased by day.
Apon the wind her scent still does exist.
In darkest night she does come to my side.
Taking life from me a drop at a time .
The wicked curse she's a razor to any mans touch.
So willing to be loved yet unable to be close.
Eyes of red she enchants.
Unable to fight her nature.
Such a perfect wepon built to decive.
In darkness she haunts my soul.
As I the willing victem do awake her embrace of agony.
Takig more leaving me with ice water in my veins.
It's a nightmare of dreams a vison
without sight .
She is the the disease within the cure.
My brightest moment on the darkst night.
Copyright © Clive Winslow | Year Posted 2009
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Clive Winslow Poem
I am the seeker in the dark.
I am that for which you fear.
You run but I can smell and taste terror that fills the air.
You are lost in a realm I call home.
My cries to lure you out of that hiddig place.
Seeking shelter you run into the arms of the that which you fear.
Do you see the glow within my eyes?
do not confuse warmth with heat hate with love.
As she lay in arms limp as a ragdoll
I feel no remorse.
For I am wolf.
Copyright © Clive Winslow | Year Posted 2009
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Clive Winslow Poem
My sweet dark angle why can you not see my face.
I stand befor you my words unmask me yet you question who am I?
Madness can eat away at that which appears same.
In the arms of another you choose to confide.
Was he that which you thought I could not be?
Blind you are blind for I stand in plain sight yet still you cannot see.
I knew of him befor you ever said.
A taken man cant ever truley share his heart only
his bed.
Cruel are the ways of lovers bitter turn the ways of passion.
For the fires flame can so quickly consume.
Playing with a fools heart tossing like a childs toy
across the room.
You are the dagger within my side.
I the willing victim for it was within
your darkness i did confide.
With every kiss I taste blood apon my lip.
Your eyes refflect innocence .
But the illusion of love is broken with the
pain brought like the lash of a whip.
There is much agony in love.
Hates resides in passion.
My mask no longer exists.
Is it outta of ignorance or fear that causes
you not to see?
Copyright © Clive Winslow | Year Posted 2009
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Clive Winslow Poem
Why must the man hide behind his mask.
The false illusion to dazzle all.
His true emotions burried behind a deciet built wall.
The pen can cut like a razor a haunt the eternal night.
Is not the killer the victem.
The play but a test of true character.
Will you cheer the villian that that is me?
Embrace the pain and taste the darkness
Fear drains like sweat.
For to long the words lay vacant apon the page.
I wonder does she question in her empty thoughts.
As I regret are meeting yet ask for her hand.
Why must we live behind this mask
will others see through to what ive done.
see blood apon my lips smell the death apon the wind.
Will I be forced to reveil my true face.
Will you cheer the villian ask?
Sit and say its great theater never knowing what you see is no
illusion.
Applaud the violence ignore the screams.
We all wear a mask for life is a illusion
look beyond what you see for I assure you
it's far worse than it seems.
Copyright © Clive Winslow | Year Posted 2009
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Clive Winslow Poem
The words you speak sound hollow to my ears.
She left me long befor she ever said goodbye.
you can never own a person love is but a illusion.
A well hidden snake so very cold to the touch.
Hate turns and drives this muscle in my chest.
I will not allow your games to decive me any longer.
Will you welcome the cold grip around your throat.
In beliving you are all knowing will you make
the most simple of mistake?
You can not be the player when it is you that is a pawn.
In deaths grip when at last you see all for what
it is.
Love is a wepon.
I was a thought to be victim.
But even in a moment as traggic as this.
As you fade I'll give you one last kiss.
Copyright © Clive Winslow | Year Posted 2009
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Clive Winslow Poem
Trapped by concrete kept in this tomb.
Slowley the mind plays tricks with the normal thoughts that slitther
across the room.
Old scars keep me inside these walls.
Eyes look only for a moments time then turn towards the floor.
Voices scream in agony no others hear am I insane?
Wasnt it anger that brought me here.
Cold in every sense.
Clinched teeth the tension eats at everyone here.
Some yern for a exit others yern for more.
My voice is slow from the pills that polute my brain.
laughter builds in isolation.
Have the walls finally drove me insane.
No page or pen inwhich to write.
Haunted are these tombs that slowley drown with the
the sorrows night.
Copyright © Clive Winslow | Year Posted 2009
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Clive Winslow Poem
On the shore alone I struggle to recall.
The meaning or reason we even choose to
fall.
Love is that illusion that is a wepon
in your hands.
Promises so empty,
Was I but a pawn at your command.
Should I be the one that you hide at the
bottom burried by so many others.
How do you exist without shame.
Laying with me me when in your heart
you know only his name.
Take that knife from my back
Look me in theeyes as you bury it
into my chest.
Finish the kill for which you
didnt have the courage the first time
to go through with thefirst time.
Does it excite you.
To know how you've caused me pain.
The show is coming to a end.
You can use the word love only inpart with your name.
I see you now dark angle.
You decive me no longer.
The nexttime if we should meet so should
you expect pain
A coward are hidden to all.
Broken as a lie.
How doesitfeel to know youve lost all.
Copyright © Clive Winslow | Year Posted 2009
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