Consumed

God cares no more for the tears of a foolish man.

One who loves & wants & seeks & knows the child, the girl, the angel of his heart who lies before him in naked pose…

 

But dies.

 

For God, if man believed in such, knows nothing but how to hurt & cut & tear & destroy crippled man’s world.

He knows how to paint the dreams I have so black.

 

…Black!

 

This tortured epiphany of death, the cloud of time which takes all & leaves uncharted & unknown

Leaves me silent.

With hate for the dreams & hopes & eternal longing of broken men.

As such I am.

 

I kneel beside this naked corpse of my lover’s fine & youthful virgin land.

Beauty wrapped in golden silk & luscious white skin of tender age.

I love her.

Oh how I love her!

In death as in life I love her & no more will lips of joy be warm to touch

Or soft  nestling of her childlike chin breath happiness into finger tips which seek for her.

 

Hence I close my eyes.

& Tears dawdle upon my angered face.

Collective streams of memories flood my mind

& I hold her hand.

Cold & still.

 

Pain engulfed by pain rides through these veins of want.

 

I see no point

No purpose

No future morning sun without her.

 

I take the cut slowly.

 

Fingers of red rivers roll across my wrist.

 

Life subsides into forgotten dreams.

I lie beside her & cry.

I hold onto her.

 

Silence fills the world with stillness

& the leaves on autumn trees outside fall & wave goodbye.

 

 

© ed simkins

– life without her?

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