Bitter Bliss: A Poetry Collection

Ruins

All that was around me

is falling into ruin.

All that I had built

is crumbling into dust.

All that I had to live for

is fading away without a trace.

I watch it go with no hope,

not knowing how to stop

this earthquake that wracks 

the ground I stand upon.

I pick through the debris,

looking for a trace of the 

life I once knew

among the stones and dust.

A trace of what was mine

remains, the sturdiest piece

still intact, grimy with 

rust, dirt and ash.

I reach for it with bated breath.

I pick it up, feeling the metal

cool my burning fingertips.

And it dissolves at my touch.

And now I know

that I am the problem, 

corrosive like acid,

ruining everything I touch.

The Midas touch of the Dark Side.