FIST
Abandoned house stands dark and still
A lorn cry from a whippoorwill
A knotted fist bone-virgin white
Contrasts the onyx-raven night
Mind paralyzed, the dread enhanced
Anesthetized inert entranced
The fist, it slowly opens up
Much like a sun-struck buttercup
Deceptive calming ancient spell
Its siren song dire thoughts doth quell
Replaced by balmy unhinged hope
Judiciousness slips down the slope
A deadly moon-struck buttercup
A crushing poison creeping up
A shout a scream from deep within
A silent cataclysmic din
Reaction though is swift, complete
Abstraction known so crimson sweet
Putrescent bloodied gaping cyst
Burst open by the twisting fist
The punishment aloof, severe
Unjust but justly sparse, austere
The face of fear, its naked glare
A fallow barren love affair
Must be true love to live with this
To edge up towards the dark abyss
To sacrifice lucidity
Succumb to its voracity
An unrequited love affair
Its greed and hunger unaware
With plagues and torments stark and chill
Abandoned house stands dark and still