Glory Undone – A woman succumbs to vice –

“She’s not happy about the life she is living but to jump through the hoop would mean to succumb to death.” – Kit Williams
*
3d1f6-addiction1
I saw her give up and fall to addictions vice:
 
Your legs splayed in graphic way
Wanting to leave this world, come and play
Scoring your hits underneath dark worlds
Flying, inhibition burned in pink pearl
Reaching to touch your body magnificent
I’m held at bay by your habit’s descent
Changed from a fondled object of desire
Picking at your curves that soft skin on fire
Tears they are my lover as you fade from sight
Pleasure was ours until you hid in your night”
– Nightfall, D.M.W. Sager
*
Glory is undone as the softness turns to a melted waste of surrender
 
Gone is the shine from the jewel of your womanhood
 
Shame clothes a golden soul tarnished by wantonness
 
Laying down your fight as your thoughts of peace fall with fear
 
What’s left now that you gave your glory to another?
 
Stained garments of unusual color adorn your nakedness
 
Dive into the murky river as it flows away
 
Perhaps your deeds will not settle on your life
*
Pressing back the past, recover your glory undone.

Also published in Broowaha Magazine

First published in Opinions Of Eye.com

 02132012 

 

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Tug of War

“All gods are homemade, and it is we who pull their strings, and so, give them the power to pull ours.” – Aldous Huxley



a-lunatic-mind

Sinking below the water’s horizon, I’m afraid to reach out to the hands offered to help. God, I do need the help, but at what cost? I’m just trying to survive, to pull my head above this liquid grave and take one more life giving breath. Can anyone just pull me up? It’s my fault I’m here, but don’t put me in the chains of your plans for me because you have it all figured out and for now, your feet on are the boat. The waters will boil, swallowing the best laid plans, resisting the strongest efforts, and here is where everyone falls. Your strong now, but I know the sense of control that comes when you realize that I, your desire, will be held near you by your assistance out of my tragedy. Your hand is what I need, and not just yours, but the effort of a village. Tug of war, I’m grabbed from two directions, pulling me not where it’s best for me, but where the hands want me to go. Just breathing is no comfort when, after I breathe, I find myself immersed in the murky water of slavery to a strange will. Sweet Jesus, my heart is overwhelmed and I cannot feel, I can only gasp, hoping that what ever hand I blindly slap the water and find, is one that will release me when I’m aboard.