Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Worn Heart


The man with Christ within him,
a dark eyed phantom who has taken a piece of me.
He binds my tongue with unspeakable passion.
He showers me with roses as he places his crown of thorns.
My heart seeps with the agony of his defeat.
His sweat still on my flesh as I wake.
Iron on my my lips still warm from his sharp tongue.
"...sing to me" he whispers under his breath,
never letting his words escape his impenetrable heart.
His bitter sweet drug creeps into my veins.
You're forever an appetite for a tasteless pallet never quenched.
My hand rejects the ink filled pen that pours my soul in tears.
Another love filled verse wrapped around my tongue,
waiting to leave my warm sweet mouth.
I wonder if your tongue is swollen with the passion of our "lovers kiss?"
You wrap yourself in your cloak of knight,
as I drift off; the fire of the Sun dances on the horizon.
Slowly she creeps and fills the sky.
The rain quiets the sun, the dark sky quiets the light.
Meet me, my worn heart waits by the moonlight.

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