Isn’t there an irony that to you I owe it all?
You uncovered a part of me in the devils hour.
Two souls, fragmented shards of yesteryear,
We were children dancing with the devils soldiers
Bound by scars of old that we painted across
each others skin, you were the innocent,
I was the sin. I didn’t believe, I didn’t see,
and your lies and indiscretion set me free,
whilst binding you to a cage of regret,
futures mapped, destiny set as you carried
into new days the broken fragments
of my soul
that I left shattered upon your door…
… Till time passed, lives moved forward,
Many sun rises, blue skies, spring rain glory
Promises made and broken.
Closure came unexpected.
I was chaos she was respectability
on paths chosen,
Only you saw my potential to be more
Yet, with self doubt you were out the door….
the catalyst moment that had me reaching for more.

I broke into a thousand shards of mistrust,
bled for my lust, died for my sins
fought bare hand your belief…
became the very thing you believed beyond me,
your choice set me free
no longer a soldier for the devils play
You uncovered a part of me that day
And as years passed and paths crossed
It was you crying now, for the love you had lost.

Karen Hayward ©2018

“in love’s opiate embrace” 

IMG_20170413_110950

Surround me, drown me, engulf me

the essence of your desire has long

become the beating drum of my crimson

blood. Silence now has a curved edge,

warm and delicious it licks across my skin

my palette accustomed to your

embrace, opiate love, in a storm

of ferocious passion, I hear the poison

as it lulls through the shadowed

maze of my mind, and I am lost to

it’s intrinsic beat, a harmony

of ancient touch caressing my soul. Look

here at the constellation of your kisses

as they trail my skin, for all that you are

I hang on the dependency of my need.

I hang upon the dependency of our love

dark and relentless it is the beacon

of my spirit.

Karen Hayward ©2017

Image and words.

#poetslineprompts

lineprompopiate

The whistled song death.

This is inspired from a picture prompt on g+ you can see it here, please feel free to come join the community if you yourself are a poet, or reader 🙂

 

Where have all the smiles gone?

Where lays now all the love?

A malady of life playing through

the streets, a melody of death

drumming to the beat.

Are vibrant golden hues enough

Oh where now lays all the love?

And where have all the smiles gone,

or do the Jays whistle their funeral song?

 

Karen Hayward ©2016