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The Taste of Blood and Love

Contributed by black-reaper on Tuesday, 18th December 2007 @ 06:33:40 PM in AEST
Topic: LovePoetry

These empty walls of this empty room are all I am
They've become my air, my world, my thoughts, and mind
Only for the subtle pleasure of solitude and suicide
The shadow of the box which logic and reason lie damned

In the air lay the eerie sound of abandonment and white
Music to my ears of which loneliness engulfed my life
So therefor I stay alone with my own self
To stray gradually into the realm of a memory long died

This memory I call my friend, never amusing
Yet laughing at his own manic depression so overwhelming
For his entire gray existence sings of virginity, love, and foresakenment
Such the ballad of his life, my memory, leaves any fool so hell-bent and ugly

"Why'd you do it?" Remain the silent words of time

This shadow, my friend, a memory, still bleeds
Layed slain over the red and black roses and thorns
With eyes that of a goddess in mind, still in pity, yet scorn
The taste of Aphrodite still on his lips, still bleeding

Cannot it be so any love go unrequited
By the hearts of neglection in such modern primitivity
When the idealistic perversion may be we all have a companion
Though, alas, the reality lay in more jaded eyes, so trusting

Thus as it may be
In such sad shame
The white words float in my ear
With a voice so angelic, so dead

"Why'd you do it?"

Copyright © black-reaper ... [ 2007-12-18 18:33:40]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: The Taste of Blood and Love (User Rating: 1 )
by enigma on Wednesday, 19th December 2007 @ 03:57:31 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

black-reaper,

I have always felt a poem is successful when it provokes the spirit muscle of common experience to contract and the memories frozen in time melt a bit and are allowed to live again. Your poem did that for me. In my case it wasn't, isn't, so much, Why'd you do it? but rather, Why didn't you do it?

Thanks for the thaw. Though it was brief, it was good.

ron...enigma

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