no, it's just comfort

i tire of sifting through disconnected faces
wasting energy in a humdrum routine of longings
reaching a momentary high, more personal and solitary
each time replaying a role that tires
subjecting myself to the energy of lusting spirits
to end a solitude that lingers far beyond
no drug can cure it, no game can satisfy it
the body as body will perform its function
the heart disengaged from the momentary pleasure
the spirit in discomfort, its flame diminished
the comforting routine of a familiar body
the satisfying climax, the empty embrace
whose pleasing feel is purely physical
the lacking emotion on which we pretend
the reality of the moment when we look at eachother
and we know that it isn't what we keep hoping for
and yet we let out loneliness play us like a puppet.

Popular posts from this blog

the myth in a dream

as a Satyr I'm cast forth into the darkness the wind echoing in the distance carries your voice I run through the forest following your essence; shadows wander all around and I'm lost to my senses I fight my way through a crowd of wood spirits as you fade in and out in a distance of clouds my instincts of Satyr, both human and beast, compel me to hunt you, make you my prey there's a force that carries me through the night I gallop through the dream to catch you the stars shining fly like leaves caught in the wind your gaze is mine; and it's your voice that wakes me.
Read more

lost in words

I’m sad because of your sadness Dwelling in faraway lands; Sadness growing in your heart, Your eyes lost in distant waters. Pondering, your wandering heart Its lights never casting a shadow; Waves and waves of burning fires Release your essence to the winds. I feel sadness, yet I’m not sad; Absent the sense of your presence That accompanies my loneliness Far into unknown places. I lost myself in my words— The ones casting my road; I’m too lost in the dreams That weave a labyrinth before me.
Read more