We;
Are the mercurial rhythm of speech.
Wrapped in daylight lies to speak.
As dusk breaks we show ourselves,
Lies on glass picture painted sheets.
Things close but impersonal,
Anything to help us get to sleep.
I;
To true hearts do beseech.
Implore a modicum of time so meek,
Merely our futures worth of blinks.
But reciprocal tongues lay in the fairy tales of elves,
And eyes can distract you from the truth.
Even should it be dark and bleak.
And what of man?
Are we so broken to unreal-eyes?
Are we so fragile with words we speak?
Indeed; with hearts that bleed,
and souls that die before we can weep.
Treaty to indifference, we lie.
You;
Are duality and convolution.
Wrapped in kisses and a sweet tongue.
As sleep arrives you hide your eyes,
Lies, on a picture painted pane.
The pain arrives as quickly dear,
As your character is made so clear.
She;
The efficacy of wanton lust.
Inconsistent in alibi's and ever,
Ever yearning for undue trust.
A wavering heart and misplaced anger and blame,
And blinking elvish eyes that do distract.
From deeds done in shadows.
And what of me and thee?
Are we so broken to unrealize?
Are we hearts so distant that we break?
Indeed; with secrets that you keep,
lost in meadows of pink left to seed.
Eyes pointed to foreign skies.
Lost within these webs.
Smiling at ghosts,
and shades so white.
The heart ever ebbs.
Failing us the most,
designs of our own plight.
YOU ARE READING
Blank Spaces
PoetryAn emotive journey through the empty places we visit but never want to see. The pain, the heartbreak, trying to see hope in places there may be none. And the secrets, and yes there are always secrets. Can you see them in this dark empty space? So it...
