“Dead Living”




Is in a coffin—
Coffin of my heart’s grave
A dark quarter amidst fields, and
High, thick, weeds, and foul aromas
Decrepit forest limbs hang, there—crucified
A look of mangled fear and withdrawal
Our covenant of “One heart” lies broken
Wooded box: its lid is tight, though, the nails
Have rusted in the saturated, malevolent, air—
Weeping winds conflict, cut, and scathe, yet
The dust stays
Floral black whispers, line me, and breed, as
Colorless wild flowers kiss
Putrid mess, I feed—a wearied gum
Expels from my mouth
You have left me, and
My love is … .




Written By, Darkest Angel
Written April 5, 2010


"Living Dead"




Ghastly crippled walk in this,
Musty, tattered place—so without, I feel
Murmuring on lips pursed, while I dig and shake—
Uttering things, “I know, my love is … in there”—
Sticks of this shovel have no yield to my love free
Curse the dust; it is casts of times … now
Encircles my coffined jewels—my love for you
Your voice pierces the dismal quiets, and
Prickling cacophonic mocks and whines
I labor the thought of you coming here
Where … are you, I cry—turning, slowly
Fearing I will not catch a glimpse
Sweeter, your sound, to me, and nearer—
Startled and stopped! My Love, I cry
Discouraged to, not, see your face, I turn
Again—startled and stopped!

My Love, you found my love—
The love I kept only for you to take
How you have lifted the lid, and the stains—
How they have…become vacant—
The dust…the dust no longer is home, here
Your warmth pushes burden’s feet, steadily
Off me—in its wake, the dusty mist
Is perking—it morphs to fervor
I can feel my face and my heart smiling
Fueled with your surprise
Ah! My Love….




Written By, Darkest Angel
Written April 4, 2010
(Rewritten April 8, 2010)