The hands of time tick slowly by
as dawn breaks in a new day. A nightmare reality of the receding night lies marked, like so many fading stars, in the shattered glass on the floor.
Silken shards of sorry souls,
their lives now trapped in a dream of what was then, what is now and what should never have been.
Each broken image,
a moment in time captured for those who were there to witness the whirlwind of a love gone sour.
The blood-stained rug tells a tale of woe
in a world nobody else sees. A painful portent of the coming storm; of a love that lived and died in the grip of a cold winters morn.
The dancing flames of a freshly lit fire
can do nought to chase out the cold, for the night was so long and the panes etched deep; too deep for the kiss of desire.
Rivulets of blood trickle
to the point of the sliver I clutch so tightly in my hand. I feel a pain shrouded ecstasy as I watch my life drip away to the beat of a now broken heart.
Like the pain that I bore
as I knelt on the floor at your feet. It was too much to bear.
“Oh shattered reflection of all that I was
come press the point of your pain deeper, that you may bring down the night to the end of my lonely fight. I commend all I was to your keeping.” Written by Darren Scanlon, 9th December 2014 Revised 15th June 2015. Special feelings on Fight Creative poems on Memories Magical Pain Poems
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ALL POEMS ©2015 DARREN SCANLON. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. * Words and music have always played a major role in my life. A life without being able to enjoy music and express in words would be, for me, empty and cold.I have been writing since age 16, some 30+ years now but have only recently started publishing my works. Since doing so in Dec 2013, I have published 4 novels and 5 volumes of poetry, (available on Amazon.co.uk).My words are my life. If they touch you in any way, if you are able to take something from them, then my work has achieved its goal and I am a happy man.Welcome to my world. Darren.
when I tried to reflect the solemn and unfathomable stars shadowy vistas of sylvan beauty curled his fastidious lip disarmed anger and softened asperity poured out on him the full opulence of a proud recognition as I was reflecting the
One deep breath of what yet lies, Dream’s of shattered butterflies. For like myself their wings are torn, Silently broken they fly in mourn. Blade’s of silver shining in the light, Scarlet blood on my wrists, feels right. Flowing beads.
We must be falling apart as we argue fuss and fight all day long. When I’m feeling depressed and blue , sure would be nice again just to hold you. The pain is real, the heartache I can’t stand anymore
Looking at my reflection I see a shadow of the girl I used to be. Someone who was once so carefree has turned out to be, one who is broken infinitely. Someone who once was so strong. She is searching
A smiling face soothens the heart of the onlooker A crying face emits sympathy of the onlooker A laughing face enhances the spirit of the onlooker An angry face disturbs the mind of the onlooker A serious face brings fear