Before I say goodnight
I wanna say thank you
Thank you for unsealing your heart
Leaving enough room for a few scriptures
On my life
A blanket of affirmations
Burnt holes through the fabric
Concealing sins only you can bear
Sweating out lies from satan
You hear the laughter.
You hear the cries
From day one through day 365
Cleaning up the puke of broken promises
Tears of self-hate fill up this bucket
Head first, I dive deep into doubt
I have been searching for an answer that was already there.
~Reborn
No more cigs.
no more bad habits;
just a man with self-control.
At some point, we all need
to be managed by ourselves.
Perhaps if we’d all begun when younger;
fifty-something would, be a very young number.
With the wisdom of age, when we are younger;
we might climb mountains, when we’re older.
Or Trek the Himalayas and swim the oceans deep.
Run and win a marathon, not needing so much sleep.
Alas, mistakes made in the past,
Have caught up with us all and fast.
But, it may not be too late;
to unseal and to change,
fates.
The skies unfolded
Mist that clouds the air we breathe
within the skies withholding
and myriads folds enfolding
Endeavors reached for
light within forever now’s
quiet stillness accepts anew
truths unwoven through veils unsealing
Breath its essence sheds
through anxious times its fleeting
in pounding waves receding
Evening descends in cooling breeze
day of night illuminates
in forward paths of life we face
the paths that living makes
No more cigs.
no more bad habits;
just a man
with self-control.
At some point,
we all need,
to be managed
by ourselves.
Perhaps
If we’d all
Begun when younger;
fifty-something would,
be a very young number.
With the wisdom of age,
when we are younger;
we might climb mountains,
when we’re older.
Or Trek the Himalayas,
and swim the oceans deep.
Run and win a marathon
And not need so much sleep.
Alas, mistakes made
in the past,
Have caught up with us all
and fast.
But, it may not
be too late;
to unseal and to change,
fates.
Like a rose lacking its pedals,
My tranquility disregards its fascinating smells
Like a tree shaking off dashes of its mangled leaves
The switch of seasons interweaves...
You infuriate me with petrifying peace
You unlocked the gate... unsealing healing doom
Miniscule doom rummages through the town,
Wreckage brings peace, making us whole,
Stumbling down by our enrapturing gown
Polishing the mayhem, what a fine world...
You ate away at my purifying peace
You unfasten my fate... concealing chilling doom
Like a guitar tattered and out of tune,
The havoc that I observe is merely a mouldering misfortune
Like a drum busted open during the afternoon,
The peace that I yearn for has expired again...
You hesitate to gather refreshing peace
You unwind my misery state... unraveling incorruptible doom
So you think because my tongue lance
The eye of devils
To hide my children from their teeth
I cannot feel how quickly your heart beat
Against my breast with longingness
For me to move my hands
Slowly as the wind move the sands
Against the softness of your breast.
I want to slake this tongue
In the mouth of your understanding
And drink from your lips
Of deep forgiveness
If I spoke abrupt against your need
For my time to give the moon the moon to rise
Undressing the desire of your eyes.
I am a lover
Unsealing virgin gardens of blood
To plant the seed
Filled with the dreams of sensuous happiness.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.