Eire's blog: "Poetry"

What is this... this thing Would of thought this distance, This absence from you, Would of cooled my desire, Loosed this hold on me, Yet here I am, Empty armed, Aflame and aching within, A desire that never ceases, Longing, yearning, For your touch. My heart in my throat always, I can not swallow it down, Gripping me tight, Leaving me gasping, Each day that passes, None is diminished, For it only grows larger in me, It overcomes me, And I am without resistance. What are these tears that well up in me, Burning as they roll down my cheeks, I can not be rid of them, As I can not rid my mind, Of thoughts of you... Copyright ©2006 Delmina DeSousa

Too Late The wind doth blow with a bitter chill And I fear I have come too late my love The rosy stain upon your cheek has gone Replaced by an ashen palor I can no longer feel the pounding heart beneath The warmth in your fingertips cooled. What have you done Where have I faltered How easily did you submit Now this curse is done Reaching the point of no return Stolen from me My heart, my soul The only goodness in me How the bitter tears do burn within For I have come too late Copyright ©2006 Delmina DeSousa

Life The sword of time will pierce our skin, It doesn't hurt when it begins, Inching slowly in, Watch for the razor's grin, At first it only bleeds but a trickle, But life wants more for it is fickle, Life is a knife to the aware, Cutting pain to share, So it pours upon the floor, But life laughs and asks for more, Tiled black and white, smooth cares, The floor of dreams rips and tears, The bloody puddle grows ever deep, But life goes on without a peep, So into the warm embrace, We fall without a trace. Copyright ©2006 Delmina DeSousa