He has no place with her now. His hands so dirty, worn and raw. Scraping the pavement of his desire, where only the cold wet stones know his name.
He has no place with her now. His aspect cracked and broken. Stinking of horror, sweat, wine and a lust for all that remains of a long disregarded dream.
He has no place with her now. His black coal eyes of willing rage. Burning holes in the sun, the seconds, the hours and death's voracious, ugly pallor.
He has no place with her now. His hungry heart, debauched, devoured. Cast out by a love that does not suffer a fool, the furious, the divine, the righteous, the coward.
He has no place with her now. No footprint. No vestige. No trace. No mark. Nothing to hold her face close, to kiss, to claim, to love, to harm.
He has no place with her, and now he is gone. Dissolved into shadows and acrid dust, beyond hope of Elysium's sweet embrace, a lovers glance, a state of grace.
He won't be coming home again, he won't be coming home.
-AAB
Thursday, September 20, 2007
The Beggar
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1 comment:
you need to publish all of these in a book someday when you aren't busy doing a million other things..lol..
this has inspired many drawings!!
Shine On you talented ray of light!!
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