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inspired by Malaya Roses

My life,
bleeds into the well of this pen;
its point to skin,
life’s caustic sin;
at loss, this connection,
this humble zest for living,
in evening’s cool,
becomes time’s twilight lust.

Beneath, your turgid midnight flesh,
is where I laid,
my strength’s divide;
alas, the will refused heart’s surge,
its shape reflects,
life’s gentle touch in love;
such my vision wants it blurs,
upon your sweetest closeness pressed.

Your lips, does my kiss behest;
emotion’s sins emerge,
as this truth exposed;
causing heartache’s feign,
throughout this longest day;
in imaged stains,
death earned love’s thrill;
this, my heart’s deepest truth thus made.

In sorrow’s dying threads;
on forehead’s shadows,
lay the face of faith scorned;
oh! sordid flesh,
cleave deep to scour love’s decay;
through my bruised and darkened spirit,
free this breath taking weight;
and so relieve my hurtful livings din.

Remind me deeply of your place;
and as I quietly weep,
these thoughts do surely thin;
pampered, by the presence
of your sought for breaths;
in silenced hush,
my soul this love so dropped;
as the world suffers in this pause.

Our lives to heaven’s attendant;
faced against,
the minion of that beast;
that it causes,
my blood still filled;
to boil and purge my pain,
of passion’s dark and shameful lust,
for you.

Michael Darrell Walker

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Comment by michael darrell walkerjohn on February 16, 2015 at 10:14pm


by michaelw1two





I arise to

this new mind

I await adventures

today, the sky calls to me

willing to set me free of myself

to show me for the very first times

the colours, of each and every tree, the

vibrancies of all living things within my sight

to teach to me the methodology of looking in

to myself; and touching the cool and calm of

my soul; my essence calmly rests within me

quietly urging me inward towards my true

self; away from the teachings of this old

order of things, drawing me eternally

to the truths of me, before this sad

reality’ suggestion that I am less

than that which I really can be

and internally I weep softly

and gratefully thank me

for waking the

phuckk up!

Inspired by the word work of Lauren loves vintage



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