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Poem: You Handed Me a Rose

12 Mar
Credit: EvilNuns, deviantart.com

Credit: EvilNuns, deviantart.com

You Handed Me a Rose

You handed me your love, a rose
And placed it in my outstretched hand
In your loving eyes, your love, it show’d
As you, your love, on me bestow’d
And I thought it oh so grand
But I knew not what it would demand
For I closed my hand to hold it so
And as I did the thorns drove in
They pierced my tender flesh straight through
And a crimson red began to show
The thorns their price in blood withdrew
I tried, but my closed fist stay’d fast
Upon those thorns it was impaled
And so the piercing thorns prevail’d
My blood seeped past the jagged thorns
As did my anguish past your scorn
How long was this to last?
My blood, so slowly, graced my sleeve
As I, impaled, had no reprieve
For my white shirt would not have stain’d
Had I of your red rose refrain’d
My shirt, with my own blood adorn’d
Your rose, I fear, can’t please my eye
For this the piercing thorns deny
My hand quivers in its thorns
For you handed me your rose

Rage in the Prison of my Circumstance

24 Jan
Lycaon turned  into a wolf (Goltzius 1589)

Lycaon turned into a wolf (Goltzius 1589)

I am restless, to and fro
In the prison of my circumstance
The rage within does start to grow
This burning rage well do I know
I feel it swell into extreme
And rise into my tighten’d throat
It gathers there and burns as steam
Then unleashes a most frightful note
With head thrown back in carnal song
My eerie scream against the night
In a horrid moment so prolong’d
Rabid echo of my fearsome plight
Fields of freedom are within my sight
As I reach beyond my prison’s bars
In a futile hope to grab what’s there
And then I turn my burning glare
To the walls that bare the scars
So gouge’d into by flailing claw
Propell’d by force of rage so raw
Then of prison’s door I am aware
I attack it with a rage renew’d
The door then yields to my stern will
Torn asunder by a violent blow
Yet my torment-scream grows louder still
For my jailer, now, he is construe’d
And blocks the door, this man. I know
My freedom he will not bestow
For I can’t permit myself to go.