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Poem

LACK AND TRUE

It’s that ache
That odious old ache
The ache that breaks my stride 
And derides me with immediacy implied
An ache that holds me subjected to surrender
To recollect the tender touch of timidity

And finesse finely focused upon fluidity

With all the magic enticement can so miraculously make
That is what an apathetic truth is apt to take
And oh that ache
It’s an ache that tastes of the forsaken

And what,
by torturous tactics, 
is too untimely taken
exile executed by the exodus of extreme enticement and the luster of lilac liquidity
with the intrusive end to ambiguity
When life and loneliness seem synonymous
An ache which makes one ache to be annihilated or anonymous
And subjectivity seems not so subtly strenuous
The steadfast ache that throbs with tremulous devotion
Effecting every intrepid inference within emotion
An ache for which there is no repentance
Nor is there,
By cessation,
Any sort or sign of near acceptance

But then I remember the place in which you placed me
When fear finally face to faced me
The last land wherein I would ere belong
And yes state I
These memories of mine are mournfully and ever strong
And everything is now so errantly and urgently wrong
As I languishingly linger aside languid Loneliness Lake

Damn that god forsaken ache
That blatantly brutish and bruising ache
Curse it for a demon’s sake
…………………That ache
                                      © 2009…..free cee!

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