my love makes the darkness beautiful.

My Love Makes the Darkness Beautiful.
_______________________________

When we Kiss,
our Shadows
Dance, and Sigh
Rainbows into
Life's Endless
Void

until
Tears become
an endangered
species

that would be
Extinct!!

(if not
for those
of Joy.)

+++

My Love
makes
Darkness
Beautiful..


A Paradise
of
Midnight
Creatures
Singing
Praises
To Dead
Stars!

and
With Her..
Each
moment
is Timeless.

(because
The Clock
no longer fills
Our Head
with
Scars.)
__

j.s.h.

how can you become fallen so?

How can You Become So Fallen?
____________________

Tis Bittersweet
(to say the least)
that I hear The
Laughter of Him
Dead, rise from
The Lips of Innocence.

His Fathers Boy
is He!

Who Upon the
Path of Ancients
Fallen those little
Footsteps Tread.
_

I call Him by
Your Name
when Your Eyes
(through Him)
look quizzically
at me with Silent
Questions..

Heart Haunted
with the Deepest
Shame.

(that I Dare Not
ever Mention.)
__

Brother, Brother,
how could you
Become Fallen So?..

Ashes to be
scattered in The
Wind!

(peppered with
little flecks of
Bone.)

when your Little
Seed has so
much still To Grow?

J.Stephen.H.

love-stained blisters.

Love-Stained Blisters.
______________

Eyes closed..
(as i enter)
Her Heart opens
wide.

(leaving my soul
dismembered.)

Yes My Love,
This is Paradise!

(with no more cold
and Dark Decembers.)
_

Something in her sigh
(of lust)
reveals Destiny to Me.

A Fate I can Trust..
Pure Joy without Release!

(causing Transcendence
Beyond This Reality of Dust.)

"Harder!"

(screams the Angels
Daughter.)

"More?!"

(I ask..excitement
growing.)

"make me your only
martyr!"

(she whispers.)

"but shall we drink
first this Holy water?!!"

(or apply it to our
Love-Stained Blisters?)
_

Deep in You..
The Devil cannot
touch Us..

Though we do this
Unclean Thing all
Dirty Devils Often Do!

For there is a Purity
in Our State of Lust!!

(and Paradise waiting in
Her Eyes of Blue.)

J.Stephen.H.

the intensity of lost moments.

The intensity of Lost Moments.
______________________

I recall now in the intensity
of lost moments...

as your eyes danced
with secret smiles..

restoring sanity..

banishing sad memories..
from the lonely head of
youth.

Your voice was a violin
concerto..

Paganini's 4th...

stirring the Seas of My
Heart's calamity..

inviting me into your
Soulful Dungeon..

to sit amongst The Dying
Pines..

and smell The Angel's Perfume..

(the prettiest poison for an
unwell mind.)
__

The Ghosts no longer believe
in us My Love...

I feel their Scorn burning
in My Head...

and Their Voices make My
Soul a Funeral Pyre..

(such is the Envy of
The Dead.)
__

Are there other Whispers?..

More keen, observant listeners?

Those who know the "Answers."
to the questions that we ask?

I recall now the intensity of
those moments..

and weep.

(as Devils Laugh.)

J.Stephen.H.

the time has passed for tears

The Time has Passed for Tears.
___________________________

The soul as
a mirror..?

(contained
in Heaven's
cut wrist.)

The time
has passed
for tears.

(instead I
clench a
fist.)
_

with rage the
angels mock.

(I laugh
amused in
return.)

Since
The World
is but a Flock!

(intended thus
to Burn.)

j.s.h.

so expected..(its all come to be.)

so expected..(it's all come to be.)
__________________________

So expected..
it's all come to be.

Your rich fields..
and vibrant streams.

empty words..
of shallow praise.

(to conceal the souls
carnality.)
_

Someone must be..
An Alien.

Sitting on the Sidelines
watching.

Those Fickle homosapiens..
standing silent by a road.

(they should be crossing.)
_

but I found my truth today..
that we all lie about tomorrow.

and I didn't even Pray!
(for an end to fear, or sorrow.)

so expected,..it's all come
to be.

useless words of idolatry...
spit before the paupers..
who confuse themselves with
kings!

(to conceal the lone souls
vanity.)

j.stephen.h.

in meaninful pursuit of soul.

in meaningful pursuit of soul.
________________________

if you chose to write
on your souls behalf..
would there be novels,
or emptiness?

(or a novel comprised of
emptiness.)

i only ask dear brethren..
because i am empty..but
seek to know the soul..in
all of it's profound entirety..

to swim the madness of the
deep, and come up for air
screaming in exultation as
the light of Ages shines upon
my newborn face..

knowing what others (in
moments of revelation)
know when first they feel
the hands of Grace wipe
away their tears.
_

we are all wanderers of
varying degrees..(as more
noteworthy men of letters
than myself have pointed
out.)

some wander with purpose,
driven by desires to serve
and perpetuate the ideal of
some greater good..

while others are escapists..
trying  to get away from the
burdens they fear to face.
(which might have been
blessings had they only
faced them.)

_

today i stand somewhere
oddly between living and
the absence..struggling to
rid the madness in myself
in exchange for something
more pure, and lasting,
which would successfully
explain the nature of the
world i've always existed
in.

(merely as a shadow.)

And it is with You (dear
brethren) that I chose to
wander...

in meaningful pursuit.

(of soul.)

j.stephen.h.