Looking far from home for what
I cannot have but I have not
And have you this thing I seek
Is it you who made me weak?
We row upon these waves of hope
Through the darkness blind we grope
Our bow upon rocks of reality
This darkness fends off our clarity.
A simple tune whistled apropos
I cannot hear for all of Pathos
No words or tune all seraphic
But cacophony so erratic.
Oh how all I want is silence sweet
Instead chaos abruptly meet
My all my now my everything
There cannot be an inbetween.
Humbly fondle candlesticks
To light with matches waxy wicks
To shed the light upon our forms
Fire tongues lick our faces warm.
Both are spent, we lie almost
Still enough to mistake our ghost
Is returned to haunt us what a fear!
Accept this presence welcomed here.
No shadows from the candle’s light
No tunes distracting quiet night
Just both of us, muses to lust
Certainly pure, able and just.
©Kris Blackburn 19/09/12