Poem 9

Victorious, I stand,
with the bitter winds of betrayal whipping around me,
slapping me in the face.
Bitter-sweet success
For I got what I wanted,
however I still must be furiously punished,
by the waiting crowds,
past friends.
As the way I achieved it was cunning,
not graceful,
or elegant.

The world is hostile and harsh
to anyone stepping out of line,
breaking the moral code.
Chase you dreams, they say,
(as long as the are dignified)
for if they are not
you will be sentenced to isolation,
despite gaining glory,
you will be alone.

Victorious, I stand?

Poem 8

A loud rumbling crackle of content
comes from with in the silky outer layer,
so soft and smooth to the touch.
Beautiful.

My knee is left cold,
after her warmth departs.
It is surprising how attached one can get
to someone who never replies,
elegantly ignoring you,
ears back.
Although, her lack of response tends to be her best quality.
She is loud yet silent,
An attention seeker yet not annoying,
Her presence is enjoyable,
Not intrusive.
Beautiful.

Poem 7

The devil hidden in sweetness,
cruel trickery,
with no purpose other than to deceive.
                    *****
But who are we to judge what makes one bad?
Morally wrong.
We have all committed 'sins',
it's merely relative.

However, evil is plain to see.
It seeps out from every corner
as easily as water seeps through broken glass
and is impossible to hide.
Even if it were dressed in blue,
the cold shiver of the devil
would throw away any pretence.
Even if the devil was hidden in sweetness

Poem 6

The white fire of disappointment
seeps through me every time I think of you.

                 ******

Loveliness broke today.
They were both of Godlike kindness,
with romantic aspirations.
However, unfortunate circumstances,
and a lack of perfection
ruined all chance.
And so love lost this battle
and broke two spirits.
But their dreams for the future remain intact
and so do their foolish devoted desire to find
the man or woman who will complete them,
just like sunshine completes the dawn.
For once found,
the beauty of such a discovery will be divine.

Poem 5

Forgiven, maybe.
Forgotten, impossible.
For only a mad man or a fool would forget,
and since you are neither,
you will never forget.

Poem 4

I would rather love you
than anyone else on this planet.

Poem 3

Drift
Hazily
In no given direction.
For weeks and months.
For in months and years from now
when you look around,
you will realise,
you have drifted into perfection.
And this perfection
will be sweeter than you could have ever imagined,
for the beauty of drifting
would have created this, your, divine excellence.