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Poem

L o v e ~ a crippled nightingale
b u r n i n g in bronze tears
of tornadoes,
limping and writhing,
screaming for release,
but
what if I am the mistress
             of glass-cut dreams,
crowned with 
 razor-edged regrets, 
and splintered serenity?
Would the raven breeze 
      then cocoon my soul
with delicate doom,
fueled by petroleum promises, 
searing in deadly flares,
as if I were destined
to be a victim of  
vindictive vengeance,
torn and tainted,
chained in poisoned
strings of pearls,
a reflection of resignation,
of how kismet calligraphies
draped me in haunting ivory,
                as the devil’s widow,
of when I vowed to serve
chastised chamomile,
of the night my innocence
was baptized in infected rivers,
rippling and ricocheting~
bleeding black with thorns…

O deranged twilight,
my heart aches in angst,
singing scars beneath
starless spheres,
where the moon is silenced,
eclipsed by the sun,
and the earth sighs
an unheard requiem
for the fractured skies,
stirring nocturnal feathers
to flutter and soar
in sync with the 
            beautiful tragedy,
while I lie in a sealed casket,
adorned with russet trinkets,
shadowed in macabre musings,
breathless and bruised,
alive, yet void of purpose 
awake but sleep-walking 
like an insomniac corpse
lost in the lethal gaze of life,
tracing emblems of the Valkyries,
caged between
the rising of dawn 
                   and frozen dusk,
pondering if this is the end
of the beginning~
a cursed reincarnation,
as I see no escape
from your ill-omened grip~
a casualty of your cruelty,
I remain, 
caught in the desolate 
                         haze of  h a t e…

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