Haemhorrage

Sweet scent of never-ending, darkest night
How your strength denies my very soul.
The pull of flickering essence leaves me gasping;
and yearning, as little by little ,
you leave me drained to my succulent core.
Down a crimson shade with scarlet hues.
Twisting your emotive blade so deep in
aromatic, dark, warm haemorrhage envelopes.
These feelings evade me, so still, so quiet;
they leave me like swift feathers on pulsating winds.
Mere physical outlines, a blistered, empty void.
Flimsy, speechless, floating agony keeps watch as
silent hissing remains in a peaceful swarm of hate.
Surrounding me until the sweet song may return
once more, to fill my boiling, morbus heart.


~ Copyright Charlotte Sometimes (SRWB) 2008