With a broken voice,

Sounds of her weeping guitar

She darts like a humming bird

Among falling branches


Will she be free?

From the violent hands

Dad is a drunk

and I hide in the closet


She says, “It is alright”

Kissing my forehead

Her cold lips are bruised,

Is it blood?

or tears?

that I feel on my skin


when did the roses decay?

Or they became bruised

Fallen to the ground

Where angry feet creased their petals


The frames are broken,

The pictures are in the flames

The vows are the ashes,

of yesterday

When she was a humming bird,

Chirping in the early spring



My hands are heavy with chains 

These fingers twist,

no more 

I send blunk letters to my lover

my mother

Was it for the heart? 

Or it’s ego? 

I am lost without the applause of the blurry faces 

that watched

Merry smiles and empty words

Listening to the streets,

whispers of my name

Now a cold silence 

Hiding within the narrow streets

My name to the ground

Beneath heavy pounds of a thousand feet 

Not even the rats 

Or the bats

Chatter my name

Hell’s gate 

The hymns of the church,

Sounds of the bells at a hell’s gate

We kneel before blooded altars, 

Our hands bruised from wars of life
a dirty past or a tainted tomorrow 

The devil is not a liar

His mistress will choke you in your sleep
For the bottles are of glass

Crushed onto a hard rock

The taste of a dead wine may soak a burren field 
a wild wind, 
Chasing the colors of a fading love

Into a sunset,

A winter night

A red moon and hungry wolves

bleached withered roses,

Frozen by the Sea of souls 

With the rising smoke

Dancing in the flames

find me at the hell’s gate 

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