Desuetude

 
 
Friends, like dust, scattered by a breeze,
 
leave me rusted, lost, alone to freeze.
 
My classy princess was a comely lotus rose,
 
she wore glittering golden hair and black
 
as night, pantyhose. Her light feet formed
 
a lissomely ballerina pose, they made me dream
 
and doze. Her lips were divine softness,
 
her silk skin define ice whiteness.
 
nothing can reach perfectness like her nose.
 
Even my fingers adore mingling between her toes.
 
I bleed from the dim of my miserable heart
 
wishing my laden woebegone abhorrence to be gone.
 
grim thoughts breed, spread a disease.
 
I brood and remember our bygone lore;
 
She is gone, ash from ember. I gasp for air and reminisce,
 
Let my wounds soar; how could she dismember me
 
like a rotten timber? Suddenly she
 
had no affection, only abuse!
 
Her name is a leech, I dare not mutter.
 
It is a thorn, a fizzing cup of venom I have to swallow
 
If people croak or utter. I beseech your name for
 
It is holy as Noah, take the gloomy void as you flutter
 
because my soul soaks in bitter. Pain I cannot avoid.
 
When will I plunge into my grave I wonder.
 
I rave from the lunge of every whisper drizzled
 
from her lips, alas they made me slender.
 
I lisper them, sips of glass splinter.
 
My ethereal elixir Became what t the dead left in word;
 
I grew a gentle taste in words and their senses.
 
They’re my holy verses, I read before I sleep.
 
Only they amend my horrible tenses and heed
 
for what I need. Before the end, my dead friends ask:
 
“Why wait while you can mend the task? Leap
 
Beyond your fences or die like a creep!”
 
By AAA /:)