The Shock of Deep Revelations
Abstract hazel eyes,
intensity in a disguise,
sincerity inside a surprise-
barren hands...
whispering startling lies.
When the time of death expires,
do not fear,
for even in the times of unknown
speech sincere words can resound-
I need not days of retribution,
just moments of clarity.
I fear not congruency,
yet stumble upon
cramped prisons,
caught in the obscurity
of an asylum.
When the time of death transpires,
I ask for peace of mind-
for even in the most difficult minute,
I shall fear nothing…
except the shock of
deep revelations.
I wonder and ponder,
creep and squander,
and in the most astonishing
breakthrough,
I sense the fear amongst the hands
that hold faces that stupefy and stun.
When the time of death feeds
my desires,
amazement and bewilderment
seep from my veins,
like an intravenous needle prick-
dripping down into oblivion.
On the floor I fall with my hands
over my face,
wondering why I ever thought...
I could be loved at all.
Poems That Paint a Picture
Silent One
September 11, 2017
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