Spirit's Demise

Spirit’s Demise 

He set to beguile her spirit with worthless words of radiant soft assurance,

Hiding his inconstant mutable heart so well couched in words of charm,

Slicing out her spirit’s soul assuredly as if he had used a jagged knife,

With the facile adulteress in tow he achieves her broken soul’s destruction,

Thrusting her into ceaseless interminable pain for her spirit's death is done.

He and the paramour go on lustfully on in triumph of the spirit’s death, 

Rejoicing in intermittent  infidelities bound deep up in travelled secrets,

The promise for that sad spirit will forever cease life’s quiet contemplation,

The circuitous route to one soul’s destruction exceedingly well done,

They will carry on in lust cuckolding the incognisant steadfast bridegroom.

© W. Heron, 2014

Heart Soul’s Death

Heart Soul’s Death

I walk the path of immeasurable  soul's suffering,

I do not go to the places once loved and shared,

When I do, my love's wraith may in memory be waiting,

Remembering  the words of failed cautioned warnings,

This heart’s soul  knows only constant unceaseless pain.

I had only this vulnerable heart which now suffers

Given in offered on the promises of love’s joy,

Trusting as ever in seeking an honest emotion’s promise,

I gave my heart's soul into seemingly trusting hands,

To be outbid by the offer of openly superficial reward.

Left to wonder whether the gift of overwhelming love,

Can ever hold itself against the offers of lustful gain,

I wander lost while this tender heart's spirit

Ever remains with the heart soul of the one it loves,

Knowing that joy no longer is part of this own soul.

I will no more the places trod where we once went,

These have been diminished and hidden by a deceitful  one,

This heart understands that plan with the  duplicitous she,

From scribbling visions of her prominent puritan guise,

I recollect the time when love was a tangible glory.

Seeking for solace and release while sitting and writing,

Knowing the many faces of the specious focal one,

Feeling sad for the failed assurances of the loved one,

The heart soul dying with its spirits’ final obliteration

Remains with love's wraith who is overwhelmingly  loved.

© W. Heron, 2014  

Once you were...

Once you were...

Once you were just always there...it seems;

a friend to pass…what now seem a few moments in time.

Changeovers have sadly and slowly occurred,

so, know, I find you now truly someone to depend on.

Once you were just…well…you I suppose,

of significance but not of great importance.

Now due to certain unhappy circumstances,

converted, you have become my rock... to lean on.

Once you were just like the tiny caterpillar.

Small, colourless, and not much thought of;

confined to the mediocre chrysalis of which is life.

Now you have mutated to magnificence.

Once you were only that infrequent voice,

warning me not to trust, to take infinite care.

I failed to listened, then seeking you in my despair,

trusting in you, revealed to me how you really cared.

Once you were so mediocre and damn…so very normal.

Just like any of us when we dare to face truths reality.

Your deed has transfigured your humble being,

to a state glorified in…well pure exalted brilliance.

Once you were always the quietest of achievers.

You still are very quiet, in so many respects.

Your fame is a quiet one as it is your own reflection

never to be transformed by the shadow of another’s.

Once you were so complicated in spoken word,

but with your patience, you have finally succeeded

to make me understand the substance of the deed.

Translated into much simpler...normal tones of speech.

Once you were just a touch too dour by far.

Now you remind me of those silly birds we used to watch,

all multi-coloured, curious, so raucous and so outrageous.

Transmogrified, you have become my dearest jester.

Once you were like the commonest of base metals,

of a somewhat, certain passing commercial value.

Now as if the alchemists have finally succeeded,

you are transmuted to the richness of pure gold.

Once you were just an elemental simple soul,

needing to exist only in that space in the life,

that is for a time awarded to each and every one of us.

Transubstantiated, you are now glory personified.

Once you were just there...unnoticed...I must admit.

Situations make us, I understand who we are.

You have ceased to be who you once were,

now you have metamorphosed to who you really are.

© W. Heron, 2008

Originally titled "Metamorphosis"