The Promise

Tis’ dark this night my love,

the wind lashes the rain

with a vengeful arrogance

and sends timbered fingers

dancing across the study

window with an accusing diction.

Tis’ dark this night my love,

the shadows hold is cold

against the dying embers of the fire.

You are my only warmth, my comfort.

Your eyes enamour, even now…

they allure and entice, catching in dying light.

I loose myself in their ocular discourse

and remember…

your beauty and grace, your

tender hands caressing my face

our pulsating bodies entwined

and the new heights we’d find.

My salacious enigma who made me slave

to her sybaritic decree

to which I willingly succumbed.

And remember…

The promise we made

to go beyond the grave,

the eternal love we swore…

that was of course

before you turned whore.

Tis’ dark this night my love,

I kept my promise

though, not as you would’ve liked.

You let green eyed Asmodeus

take me, his  talons

rending a shrivelled heart

but I kept my promise

that we’d never part.

Tis’ dark this night my love,

my heart weighs heavy

and hands are red with blood.

I just wanted to look into your eyes

once more…

before I returned the jar to the shelf

next to rest of your dismembered self.

© Paul Williams 2006