My Window

Should I sit before
thee to feel the rays
of sunshine cast upon
my weakened heart
or taste the bitter cold and
angry rain you pour
into my mind drenched in
madness

The Raven black and winged
perches there awhile and
pecks at insects that linger in
the crevices of cracked and
blistered wood cast with
cobwebs left by black widow
spiders kill

Still

The windows shattered glass
reflects the fire in the hearth
recalling years ago when
it’s warmth kept our innocence
of sensual pleasures beneath
it’s flickering light that licked
our naked bodies with heat for
one another’s daring boldness
and caress

The window has grown old
with frame and pane of bent
scars upon this room torn
from the years of long ago
when children frolicked
outside it’s walls amongst
the red and yellow flowers so
plenty then

 

Depression sets in

 

and cast it’s ugliness upon him
while he lingers under a spell
that it put upon his defeated
shell he hates himself for
being lost in coma by a
trauma sent from hell

Will he ever awaken from
his twisted past and find a
shining lamp to lead the way
to safety or does he find
himself inside a mirrored
reflection of his beautiful
mind now lost forever in
the darkest cavern of
swirling mist hugging
the shoreline and lifted
by the tides rolling in
from a mermaids breath

 

© Copyright 2010 by Vincent Moore. All rights reserved.