Lurk

Malcontent to stop me dreaming.
A bitter play that keeps revealing.
Scenes upon a static stage.
The macabre heart for this new age.
For doubt replaces it’s bloody setting.
A pumping organ that keeps forgetting.
That you lurk inside this hazy past.
A haunting ghost that always lasts.
And wades on through our murky trauma.
Pining for a love that former,
took the place you now reside.
And kills this love that I tried to hide.

31/03/2021 by Mark Ryan Categories: creepy, dreams, ghostTags: art, blood, creepy, heart, jealous, killing, love, play, poem, poetry, red, rhyme, rhyming, stage, theatre, trauma 3 Comments