A Poem A Day, Authored By Me

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

From Desolate Waves, Of A True Love's Death

As poet I cry out, nobody hears
yes, deep ingrained apathy I fear
for no other sad darkness so repels
as does indifference born from Hell.

From desolate waves, of spitting grey mists
arrives those terrors from misery's lists
fiery flames set to burn a weeping soul
into heartache abyss, death's tragic toll!

As poet I cry out, so few may see
majesty in even a long dead tree
or beauty in finely woven dark verse
born from a pure truth one did not rehearse.

From desolate waves, of a true love's death
comes grief that illuminates gasping breath
followed by epic dark, its coldest chills
knowing never again, comes love's sweet thrills.

Robert J. Lindley, 7-28-2019
Rhyme, ( From Tales Of Sorrows Are Born Dying Breaths )


Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2019

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Out In The Cold Dark-Lit Street Slow Trembling Raindrops

It was past midnight and moon took away its glow
I was dog-drunk, a bit ragged just so you know
Out in the cold dark-lit street slow trembling raindrops
Poor soul, crying and begging aching life to stop
In that raging noise there was rambling and cursing
Was it heart's moaning vengeance I was nursing
Who knew, life was hell and getting no damn better
I read, I read, I read that last goodbye letter
Stained with falling tears, words- I once loved you
Darling, too much fighting -I am gone we are through
Now you go back, be hellraiser you want to be
And I in my great sorrows, pack tonight to flee.

It was past midnight and moon took away its glow
Rain stops, I walked out into spiraling snow
Heart throbbing, a loss I’d never get used to
Those deep knife slashing words, " I am gone we are through"
Then I heard that horn loud honking, tires hard squealing
Her words had done their dark work, car did the killing.

It was past midnight and moon took away its glow
I was dog-drunk, a bit ragged just so you know
Out in the cold dark-lit street slow trembling raindrops
Poor soul, crying and begging aching life to stop.

Robert J. Lindley,
Dark, Sad Narrative
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