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.

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Tragic necessity

Unstitch the fabric and pull at the thread.
Dismantled then reassemble my love like a puzzle.
Cut the corners, and round the edges.
Make them fit.
I feel it licking at my chest from the insides.
Coursing through me like a river of lava.
Deep boulders of love shift within.
Where there was once just water and fire.
Now sings and eternal stream of desire.
We shake off these brown leaves of entanglements.
Lift those gravitied heads towards the swollen sky and puff out that chest.
The one that beats with a billion heartbeats.
We strip away the coupling and unity of two souls bound together.
Yet we then drift like ghosts, transparent and vacant like an empty space;
waiting to be filled.
Decorated with art and passion.
A wash with the colour of intimacy and rouge.
We are all boned striped rooms, inviting others to come in and rearranged.
To hang those crooked pictures.
Sift through our drawers.
Silently succumbed to the tragic necessity of you.
Of love.

Raging storm

Your clouds are black.
Coffee stained and lava grey.
Swirling and destroying like a tornado touching down.
Soaking me in rain dripped misery.
Sucking the bolts from my foundation.
There’s no calm in your storm.
No eye to your needle of chaos.
Swelling your seas in the face of my defiance.
Shouting into the winds of your frustration.
But you are just a ragging storm.
Lost in my lonely hurricane.

Remittance of the love that is lost to the ways of the world (part II)

Your eyes dared me to ask you what it was, like I didn’t know. The deluded pleas of the guilty, while all around the judges think of what punishment would be best fitting. The dying cat of curiosity rose and fell within me, and I turned away. I could not look, I could not commit to the ending so willingly. The metal felt cool against my temple, though it was your smell that made me aware of what you were doing. It crawled over me like the scent of the sea. The gun clicked. I felt you near and shut my eyes, longing for you to turn my head and kiss me. Those days were long gone. A quick stab in the back, the knife that had, but till a moment ago seemed mysteriously absent, sent the tiny nerves in my body cascading like fireworks. Your mouth came close to my ear and you whispered the words I never believed you would utter in this scenario.

(Truth is, you never said these three words with any conviction that would render it believable in the past, yet something told me this was the cold hard truth that my mind was digesting).

The sound of birds filled the room, and forced me to open my eyes. I turned and saw you there, eyes aflame and soul locking its door forever on me, never to be seen again by my pathetic searching pupils. Feathers fluttered down upon us as the ceiling filled with vultures, gathering and yarring with their hungry beaks. Their black hisses and calls split my ears. The box on the table flew open and out poured the remaining blood that flowed towards us like a lava stream. The contents bobbed on the surface momentarily before submerging into the crimson depths. I sighed, you grabbed me and kissed me full on the mouth. You sighed as I turned the gun and shot us both.