Implode/Explode

Red is the colour that covers you at night.
The dripping film of my love.
The insides, now outside.
Purposely making the world uncomfortable.
A Gold shines in these eyes.
Hewed from that stone that was once your heart.
The volcanic change brought about when we kissed.
When the world ended there and was reborn.
Death lies in the centre of the storm.
Furious unbalancing in the explosion.
While the emotions settle, the thoughts cover like ash.
Red is colour that we build upon.
A crimson rainbow of unknowns.
Shimmering while you hold my hand.

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Volcano

An island unto thyself.
In a sea of that swims and breaks with waves of discount.
You raise the flag on the mound.
That sword, you bring on down to me.
Yet I build a world around you.
Like a town on a volcano.
Climbing higher for a better view.
Yet a rumbling in the belly of the beast is heard.
Daily, I wait for black rain.
But hope for the sun to shine.
Yet the rumble can be assuaged.
As I climb to the lip and taste the lava.
Kissing your plume of red and dangerous fire.
On high, I can see the turrets of other kingdoms.
Their flags, bound and bright in the tropical sun.
Happy under the banner of the one.
Yet I remain, rooted to the hard cooled magma that is your soul.
Knowing the end, will have me buried like the people of Pompeii.
Frozen in time, in ecstatic pain and awe.

Black snow

The heat will blaze and feel like hell.
A product of some evil spell.
That clings to you like sticky oil.
And all life seems such gruel and toil.
But then the rains will quickly come.
A gentle tapping. A blissful hum.
And wash away that oily mess.
Of anguish and the painful stress.
You soak your soul in calming pools.
Which cleanse the mind like shiny jewels.
But before long, the flood waters rise.
And you’ll see only death in drowning eyes.
For floods wash away the most unfaithful.
And rid the world, quite harsh and wasteful.
And as you sit in quiet despair.
You feel an ember, alight on air.
The end at hand, no ice age coming.
Little demons with their evil drumming.
For though above, it falls as if from below.
The hurried end, in sad black snow.
Which chokes the world and covers discretely.
Your soul and bones for time completely.

Attending one’s own funeral

Everything in the air, but for a moment; you’re not there.
Dust into dust and the ashes to rust.
Dressed in black, with a wolf under your skin.
The only commitment you have, is the body into the ground.
No one weeps, for that was planned.
The space of you that we now turn to ghosts.
Cut off in the prime of its chaos.
Tried to hide, tried to bide, the time it took to change.
Like needles in veins, it maintained control.
And to the earth we shall return.
For the heavens poured into the mouth of mother earth.
The light broke, smashed and scattered.
Drenching the dark soul of you in fluorescents.
And the shadows slipped away.
And the horror turned to decay.
It all collapsed into now, this day; where you can start again.

Tears of the Gods

His heart, now the colour of his wife. Broke apart.
The urn smashed, scattering them both across the clouds.
As the volcanoes rumbled and the gods groaned.
Down they both came in the rains.
Licked up by the wood spirits and the humans below.
Pooling in the heart of the world, flecks of life;
and the cast down tears from Olympus.

Her birds inside cry

She always comes a minute too late.
Peeking over emotions.
Waiting for the birds to take flight.
She named each dream in her mind.
Building for them a special home. A place of comfort.
But the fires, they raged for almost ten years.
Burning them all down to cinders.
Destroying her spirit to ash.
So now she steps. Carefully and broken.
Side-stepping hearts and crowds.
Like the pigeons in the square, she is present and yet vacant.
Keeping all at bay, as she paddles in her shallow soul.
For her waters are no longer there for swimming.
The sharks left nothing behind.
Silent and full of feathers.