Stained threads of purpose,
clambering the ladder,
stepping stones of succession,
A charlatans profession.
My personal preference is to
Be forgotten, I am no man’s
stepping stone, no check list
item on the road, falsities are
for another, so let’s not pretend,
bridges burned to the very end.
Bridges burned to the very end.
Karen Hayward ©2018
No claim to image
I feel only pity. Not for you, for those touched by you. Those stained with your toxin breath and acid words. Those that hear the echoes of your banshee scream as dawn calls upon another day and they believe they converse with an angel.
I pity the God’s you pray to, the hyprocracy in your evening cries, the venom in your devil eyes. A descendant of lilith, fallen angels with blackened wings fanning the vile words falling from your spitting tongue.
The serpent coils through your soul, what embers of innocence once lay there now crushed, dispersed on trade winds to a lover and another and any poor fool consumed by your succubus melody and the broken strings of your violin.
But alas I will carry your lesson into tomorrow on the beating wings of spirits love forever at my side. My gain was your want, eternal without condition beyond the physical realm. Spiritual devotion rewarded now in universal bliss…
Your lessons taught me the value
Of true loves blessed kiss. Your game play was preparation, for me to become his. Your poison was the toxin in my climb
as I learned self worth and when my King
took stand to claim his Queen,
I knew I was worthy this time.
Karen Hayward ©2017 Image and words
My thoughts would likely
set ablaze the page,
Perhaps best I let them fester
In silent implosions
dot to dot conclusions
and solid doubt
of realities illusions.
Delusions
My thoughts would likely
tear holes through
constellations
rip apart solar systems
Redesign the universe
and yet, would
surely quench this
burning thirst
A cure for perhaps
mothers tongue, a curse.
My thoughts
My thoughts
My thoughts would surely
set ablaze the page
Crimson flow,
nature’s rage
Not wrong not right
Blinded by terrors sight
upon my tongue then
I shall bite,
whilst quietly waiting
for the emptiness
of night.
Karen Hayward ©2017
Image and words
Find me on MeWe
If only.you could see the shattered
remains of my reflection in this
smeared mirror, lost without detection.
Grey eyes searching for your existence
Emptiness ignorantly insistent.
And you are gone
no footprints in the snow
And you are gone lost
the one I thought I know.
Have you ever turned to find me gone?
Through the storms that crashed
The words we lashed, the distant echo
that shattered glass, dooming love so very fast.
Unknown future, murky now in tainted past
Have I ever wandered off our path?
And you are gone
no foot prints in the snow,
And you are gone.
The one I thought I know.
Loyal blood stained on carpets edge
Hooked up to an open needle, synthetic
replacement, drug of choice.
Loyal blood spills across lovers voice, through
The air we breathe, and still you question me?
And you are gone
no footprints in the snow
And you are gone
the only love I’ve known.
And you are gone,
the only love I know.
KH©2016
Image found on Pinterest.
An open invitation for polgynous love, gone are the days of sin, dive into Your pool of soured semen. Swim To the depths of oblivion and drown Yourself in meaningless romps Of lustrous desperation. Blinded By your own tostesterone, pheromones, the colleced trophies gathering dust, gather some more in a final thrust, splatter your territory and name it lost trust.
Karen Hayward ©2017 (image and words)
Won’t you lay bare your soul upon
the sacred stones of ancient times?
Allow me to map the constellations
of My desire through the interwoven
Pitfalls of your pain ? Use me as a
sacrifice to the Gods, purge me of
my sins and use them as your stepping
stones to redemption. No human has
gained such power as thee, listen to that
primal call you are man and you are beast,
expel now fragile hankering and take what
is so rightfully yours. Let my blood of
innocence glimmer across your piercing
dagger once more as you plunge us through
the gates of eternity and damn us to the
fires of passion. Drink the milk of my desires,
sip from the cup of abandonment, cut away
these shackles that bind us to our torturous
mortality. Spill across ancient stones the
fluidity of my lust, split the skies with
screams of my spirit…Release me into your care,
bind me in sacred space to the
essence of your aura…I offer unto you my body,
my spirit, my soul, will you not accept? Is not the
promised gold band a symbol of this?
Make haste upon our promises
consummate our love before the Gods
of our land. Let us wash now our hands of the
murky waters of life’s creation, all paths are
trodden for reasons beyond our existence,
scrawl in perfect calligraphy across my breast,
white as paper, prick now your finger upon a needle,
bond us in the blood of need, discretion dispersed
upon thrusts of passion, pain dislodged.
Give unto me once more your seed and
let it be the last, else towers crumble and
home becomes a tainted memory taunted by the devil.
Karen Hayward ©2016
Image found on pinterest
Break me,
take these tears
let them hydrate the universe.
Break me,
take all light,
plunge me into the depths
of darkness let my shadow
lead the way.
Break me.
Break me make clear my
Path once more
So I may rise, pure
And as fine as the
Phoenix rises from the ashes.
Break me.
Karen Hayward ©2016
Image found on Pinterest.
