At the mouth of Eden.

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…and when I stand before gates of pearl at Edens mouth, our

creator calling my name on divine breath within a

celestial Kingdom, will I find you waiting beneath golden rays,

scroll in hand the calligraphy collective of pain scrawled upon

ancient paper? Will I recognise your face from the haunting moments

in my life that I beg to forget? Is the ink in which you write the essence of

every heartbreak I have felt and will I smell again the stench

of rotting death that has followed me in my darkest moments?

Or will I discover on entering the gates that all along you had

wings of such magnitude and upon that scroll is not a lifetimes

pain but a lifetimes achievements. And that the ink in which you

write truly is not the essence of pain but the collective jar of my tears,

each one a reminder to the Angels of Time why it is that they guard

Pandora’s box. And when I hear your voice will I instantly know

you were the birds that chirped at mornings dawn, the breeze that

whistled through autumn trees and the rain that tapped

upon my soul. And will you tell me that in my darkest

moments when my soul was being torn from my existence,

it was not my pain you were there to collect…it was my fear

and all that held me back.

 

Karen Hayward ©2016

 

The cold sinking into my soul.

And for a brief moment, for those short months when we declared it summer so forgotthe haunting pain of winter. I sit now beneath autumn skies, the cold swimming through my veins and dancing with my bones to an audible beat my feet have long lost all sensation and my skin wears thr permanent markings of goosebumps. And oh how I am missing the warmth of summer. 
Karen Hayward©2016

Free me.

Take me to the dungeons 

walk me in the night, 

bind my hands above me, 

whip away my light. 

Watch me as I smile, 

watch me as i cry, 

turn my world to blackness 

beneath thunderous skies. 

Push me to the edges, 

push away my walls, 

wipe away my snigger 

watch me as I fall. 

Sooth away the pain 

with pleasure as it flows, 

leave me burning red 

with an afterglow. 

Stop only when you win, 

when all of me is lost, 

when you look into my eyes 

and no longer you see frost. 

Stop when I am yours, 

sat obediently at your feet 

seeing in your eyes

that I am finally free.
Karen Hayward ©2016

Cupids broken bow.

Have I told you I will take,
have I said I do not care.
My soul is filled with hate
I’ve nothing left to share.

I’ll grab upon your soul
and tear apart your heart
I’m cupid’s golden bow
I own his diamond dart.

Have I told you I am broken
missing tiny parts,
Have you heard when I have spoken,
It’s far worse than a shattered heart.

I’ll take upon my feet and steal your every thought,
Hold you in your seat,
and give what you have sought.

I’ll own your battered soul,
and take your dying spirit,
then everyone will know,
and few will believe it.

I’ll mark you as my own
teeth bared you will bleed,
that essence it will grow
and I’ll take your fucking seed.

Have I told you I am coldness
I know only skin and sin,
Have I said I need your  warmness,
to fix this broken thing.

Karen Hayward ©2016

In and out the devil’s maypole.

Just playing about with nursery rhymes and words.

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In and out the deathly shadows,
In and out the deathly shadows,
In and out the deathly shadows,
the devil is your master.

Tippy tappy tap tap, he shall take your soul,
Tippy tappy tap tap, he’ll make that fire glow,
Tippy tappy tap tap,  and pain is all you’ll know.

In and out the chilling shadows,
In and out the chilling shadows,
In and out the chilling shadows,
He shall be your master.

Tippy tappy tap tap, the pain will make you scream,
Tippy tappy tap tap, you’ll lick his fingers clean.
Tippy tappy tap tap, you’ll always know he’s been.

In and out the devil’s maypole,
In and out the devil’s maypole,
In and out the devil’s maypole,
The devil is my master.

Karen Hayward ©2016

Old man.

Old man I see you walk the broken road

as morning rays of sun delve into the

shadows to reach you. Look up. Look

up and see what the world is offering.

Old man I watch you as you hobble past

your coat pulled in tight, I see the pain

that festers in your bones, I feel the

shame that rots inside your soul.

Old man, you know that I do see,

the glimmer is in your eyes that avert

and search the mottled concrete.

Old man, blessed are you with the beauty

of grace, I wonder now who you were

in your younger years when your body

was your own, your soul is etched

upon your face, in the eyes that do not

look, in the steps that back away, in the

hesitation at the world.

Old man look up, see you are not alone.

 

Karen Hayward ©2016