Lonely Heart
My fear does lie above, now the shadow's darkness does impart, im i not deserving, of your perfect love, and now i pray, for the sake of my mournful, lonely heart...
The twining roses
The moon flies on silent wings watching over the quiet things twining roses on the wall mourning deep the church bell rings.
The twinning roses
The moon flies on silent wings watching over the quiet things twining roses on the wall mourning deep the church bell rings.
My...
My sadness drowns my heart my grief fills my eyes with tears my sorrow hits me as cold dart my mourn sprouts my inner fears my light has changed to darkness my warm has decreased to cold my strength has diminished to weakness my youth has aged into
Defiant Heart
What i must not become and with a heavy heart i abandon all hope from ever being whole again you have shown me what it feels like to die i cannot hold back the storm that approaches i can hear the darkness calling my name through the wind it's mournful
Chasing the light
The mortuary culled, allowing some mourning. each scar, its own tale of war. each tear, my own hail of tar. every morning i awaken, open my eyes. every adorning i partake in, pen my haze. to realize the truth, our calling.
A Lonely Dove
Mist with its evil fist it attacks with an art that strikes the heart i hide from love like a wounded dove love is not my friend to me i wish it would let me be i am alone - on my own i am a rose hidden by the thorn and there i mourn
Untitled Poem
A moment more and then the day is gone, in evening grey, we mourn the vanished dawn, and so on, maybe waiting for someone to come drag us back to where we belong.
"Something Rises in the Morning"
And when i'm mourning on early mornings when i must open my weary eyes, something greets me, and it restores me, and it reminds me that i've survived. i miss you, old friend...
Lonely Dinner (Otherwise Untitled)
At a tempo he'd never prepared for he managed to bury a father and mourn over his mother's ashes. the weight and absences of it all were creeping into his realization, standing in a kitchen as alone as he felt.
Haunted
Felt long after death, i'll mourn the lose of her. if only....fear didnt keep us apart. if only fear of living didnt torture me. if only i'd known.
An Ire to Inspire
#10 of poetry this is what happens when a snowmew gets bored in his pursuit of inspiration it turns out enjoy ^^ i find myself sitting at my desk this monday morning but yet i find myself in near abject mourning for within my agenda today i have chose