My gentle nature lives
Only when you speak it
Into existence
Words I wrote you long ago
Rolled in leather scrolls
Filed away in boxes of neglect
Quills once spilled
As blood we cherished
Filled our cups to overflowing
Drinking poetry as wine
We stumbled over tongues
Drunk on words we slurred
Blurred the lines
We thought we heard
Now we thirst for change
Strange those words cannot be read
Stains upon an arid landscape
Unrolled indecipherable
Language of the dead
Opened as a map to a mystery
As rewritten history
Adding notes in margins
Cracking under the pressure
Of pens held as knives
Thoughts as matches strike
Creating unquenchable fires
Burning words
Written flames
Words tainted black as ashes
Kicked up by ideas wicked
Stinging the mind’s eye
Stabbing pens as shovels digging
Planting seeds of mischief
Flowers for another’s garden
Deception feeding roots
Weeds grow between tender mercies
With reckless proposals
With promises of forever
With careless confessions
With endless affections
Watered with tears mixed to mud
Lilies white smudged
Parchments of resentment
Paper cream mildewed
Lilies cut as gifts for love’s disposal
Buried in denial we cut our losses
Gathered into vases cracked
We pay our last respects with
Prayers seeping into silence
Fate contrived by choice
The absence of your voice
Seems the strangest thing
Truth grows side by side with lies
Wilted wishes decay as days
In the presence of a magnificent sun
Mocking my covetous darkness
With effervescent brilliant beams
Feeding petals rising up to heaven
Fragrance for another’s nostrils
Beauty for another’s eyes
What should be so free to give you
Now bound with chains of my despair
Troubled words we can’t undo
Secrets we no longer share

TM DiSarro

©2020 TM DiSarro / MindScapes Publishing