The Bloom of Wounded Roses

As the day begins to bleed in the lap of the night
A chrome of darkness pierces through the skies
Struggling to be seen from that perforated sheet of blackness,
The stars tremble like a newly orphaned kid lost in crying

It rests upon my chest, the irrevocable truth of a lie
Uncovering the bleeding wounds that I hide
This bloom of wounded roses, wailing to die,
And the scream grinds deep within, echoing the empty inside..
This sudden death of dreams, raging like a storm,
As the ghost of buried hope pulls me closer to suicide

It shall never dawn, for I have switched off the lights
It shall never rain, for what I lost, I’ve already cried..
It shall never bleed, as the me, turns to a corpse
It shall never feel, where the numbness resides,
It shall never speak, reasoning deprived
It shall never rise, for it has already died..

Don’t cry the fake waters of disguised relief.
I know I was unwanted, as unwanted as I can be..
Trying to make a place, tried, failed, despised forced to flee,
This body is going to fuel the smithereens now
A chapter put to an end, scurried to torture and threat,
There goes in flames, this unclaimed resentment,

The bloom of wounded roses, no more shrieks and grieves,
For the weight that once fell on its knees,
Burns and fades, into the blackness of eternity..

Darkest Dawn Before the Night

Lost in the mist of undying thoughts
Thwarted and jolted by a love that rots
Stinks and sucks on my soul and blood,
Leprosy borne this emotion stirred
Devastating the deep to the point of insanity,
Leaving a trail of despised humanity,
In the cold dark waters of my frenzied will,
A jilt hunts and predates a fantasy unfulfilled,
As the murkiness of my solitude, begins to splash,
The darkest dawn before the night, is about to crash,

Expectations put to grave in the nick of time,
Lynched and gagged, accused of a crime,
A crime that defined loyalty unproven,
Bleed to death and then burn amidst a coven
The thoughts that stand as daunt as irrevocable
Checking any signs if the wound is unstable
Then waiting in the shadows of the memories,
Ready to pounce at a slightest stir..

Realms of depressions strike against mind
Like an echo hits against a wall
Consumed by the silence thereafter,
Pain crawls within like the watered roots of infection
And Humbled by its oblivion, the body surrenders without retreat
No more the twisted fists hold the begged plight
No more the succumbed thoughts seek respite,
No more the grief of the gone mocks the despised,
For it has dawned,
The darkest dawn before the night...