I am led right towards this light
As it burns bright through the night
Two wise men lead the way
One priest does naught but pray.
My love you have forsaken me
Like Cupid’s heresy
Should make front page news
In place of God’s abuse.
Soft uncertainty, noisy creeping
Field barren, no harvest reaping
So I exorcise all our memories
For that, don’t blame me, please.
Nature failed to recognise
Pleading behind my eyes
I have no more to give for you
No more want; offer overdue.
It’s time to lay that ghost to rest
Old, flaming passion second best
A spectre of once proud dictator
Farewell to you, mere sad spectator.
Violets are blue and roses are red
Shrivelled bouquet, brown, wilted.
Roses are red and violets are blue
Those flowers are dead and inside I too.
© Kris Blackburn 07/09/2015