"I cleave the heavens, and soar to the infinite. What others see from afar, I leave far behind me." Giordano Bruno (1548 – February 17, 1600)
Showing posts with label spirit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label spirit. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 5, 2014

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

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Monday, March 3, 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  

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