In The Cornfields

Hi remember me?

Let's walk around the countryside,
Where people live in harmony,
We'll have a drink, have a laugh, have a meal and watch the sunset sea,

Escaping my dark realm brings colour to my dead white skin,
Not melting when here with you, the other me has lost the bout...

Ironing my wrinkeled shirt, I reminisce the time we've spent,
Even in the arms of my shining star, i'm found guilty of adultery,

Cornfields in September, we cuddle in the moonlight,
Gently caress you lower back, stroke your lips with my lips,
Let me be your slave, I'd carry you like Cleopatra, satisfaction is yours, would never settle with less,

On a stormy night we will not stop,
Reign over my naked body,
Wet skin caused by rainfall, freezing cold I'll keep you warm,
My fingertips slide between your naked breasts towards your belly,
Descend the valley of immeasurable pleasure,
I'd drop a plethora of love bugs,
Explore your every pore and love it as much as cold nights,
We'd burst out in tears of happiness, endless this should be...

But unfortunatly, the picture shatters, dreams turn to dust,
I held you in my arms now nothing but my lonely pillow,
You woke up with pen and paper empty hearted under a willow...

A blackbird filled tree stands alone on a dusty hill,
One by one they die of grieve,
My wrists squirt blood soiling the corn,
I take it in, absorb the sorrow, bite my lip, do not explode,
Courage packed in my backpack, I travel the road of lonelyness,
But not alone, but the wire wich kept us close is fading, and I cannot help it,

Should I close this book, or leave it open to add a few more chapters,
Mentally I take a snapshot, frame it, nail it to my wall,
Do I swallow my pride with a glass of wine infecting my cerebellum?

A child will bring me light when emotionally unclear,
But if not made with you, my dear, we'll seperate forever...
Still close but no more passion, yes....against my will....
No more nightly chats or sweet times face to face,
I hate the thought of losing that,
So help me choose wich way....

Poetry by Catacomb Villain
Read 785 times
Written on 2006-11-19 at 17:19

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Your poetry is very nice... I'm probably confusing you with someone else, so sorry for that..
I'm really curious to read more of what's on your mind..
I like the way you phrase things, showing the readers both sides of the story..

Well the tradition of the melancholic poet is to take the low road. I would advise turning to the west. Excellent imagery, I love the first part of the poem, full of tender sensuality and eroticly splendid against the darkness of the second half. Rise out and go west. Smiling at you, Tai

Obsession interlaced with so much darkness, yet I still see a tenderness and vulnerbility. Fascinating. As I said before, it holds me spellbound. I love it nonetheless.