my blood is spilled on sacred grounds
now smeared over your mouth like lipstick
from when you tried to kiss my wounds
to make it all better like when we were kids
and we are hiding from the world
the pain the suffering waiting on us
on the other side of the door
of this so-called House of "God" wooden
forgotten abandoned if not for our love blasphemous
war raging in our lives all we've ever known
was the unforgiving battlefield guns in our hands
bullets flying corpses for friends goodbyes over hellos
until you until you until you
you are my world and you are not war you are sacred
your hello turned into my forever home
and in these crumbling ruins of a church
before the altar under colourful stained glass windows
I ask for your hand your life your love
and promise you the same in return
for better for worse for richer for poorer in sickness in health
if death us depart then I'll find you in the afterlife
YOU ARE READING
Poems 2
PoetryWhile in English exists only one word for it, the ancient Greeks with their aim for self-understanding and knowledge found eight different varieties of love that we might all experience at some point: 1. Eros (Erotic love) - represents the idea of s...
