A poem of loneliness
My melancholy heart, beats the morose on drums so deep of tone.
A low thud without compassion,
Dies quickly in a world without love.
Sad eyes stare beyond a lost horizon,
The desert tears dry and sharp, redden the bags that heavily sag beneath an oasis that once was.
My lips silent, for there is no need for utterance in my empty room.
No laugher to fill the spaces between the oak beams, that kiss the lime ceiling above my head.
My fingers caress the round and the smooth.
A chemical solution, absolution for the sins of my lustful ways
One is never enough, for it is only in the many that I find contentment.
My breath now shallow, murmurs forgiveness.
A trickling falls from a tumbled glass,
As darkness envelops me.
I can still hear the drums, thumping in my chest.
Thought still exists, albeit slight.
It seeks out reason, and contemplates my lonely life.
Have I erred in my judgement? Am I really a coward?
Well it's too late now, for as I exhale one last time.
The drums fall quiet and beat no more.
© Kevin Heads 2020