Category: Poetry

The thunder rolls. Rain hammers the roof, pounding my thoughts, drowning out sound as my soul drowns in sorrow.

I gave you everything a woman dreams of: Attention. Flowers. Sweets. Time. Love. My soul. Most of all, I gave you: Eternal Beauty. Immortality. With my words, My poems. My songs. So all could see you as I have.

My love is a beacon Burning on the hill Signaling in the night As you wander in the dark, Lost and alone.

Loving is like fighting. Careful?  You’re going to get hurt. Careless?  You’re going to get hurt. We are all going to get hurt, so go for the glory.

When Truth is forgotten it does not become less. When it is rediscovered, it is that much deeper.

The sweltering heat, reminiscent of Hell as my soul bleeds from wounds, sliced to ribbons by your betrayal.

You were a pretty, empty shell Now you reflect the inner Hell From your nearly endless lies. What beauty there was now dies.

I  never lied to you, Even though I lied for you. Never again.

Musashi never fought the last battle. Neither did Napoleon.  Both would change to the opponent and the terrain. The first avoided women in total. The second?  His downfall for reaching beyond his range. Poor strategist I am, never to see you again.

I stood outside, and let the cold rain beat down on me. Washing away my inequities, prickling and scouring my skin as it fell from Heaven, tears of the angels mourning your fall.