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Conjolted Poetry

Conjolted Poetry

Saturday, 20 July 2013

Absence surely makes the heart grow fonder... (Postscript 4 Ghost)

After an up roar, Aldrige gets back home and she’s gone.

A heap of contempt rains over Aldrige,
The one he loves gone with the wind,
remnants only shreds of memories.
Albeit his heart torn apart,
he hangs onto the strands on his shoulders
that support him like a puppet,
Weak, motionless and inglorious.
Vexed by his polygamous nature,
He beats himself up.
for being the Apex of his troubles.

“Caslanthia my lady,” He cries
to himself like a ventriloquist.
“Bring back joy, bring back life,
bring back memories I long to relive.
Misguided by poor choice, I let you stroll
out our humble abode and here I drench in
the filth of my decisions.”

The mutilating thoughts that jog
through his mind do him no good
and his body quivers with desire to have
her near, but forever he will
weep for he did not play for keeps.

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