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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Emotional · #1533584
If you play with fire, you're going to get burned.
Behind ancient portals
in the divine temple of the night sky,
love’s cruel secrets reside
beyond the realm of mere mortals.

Through the annals of history,
the language of love has flown on wings of rhyme,
enticing innocent souls
with seductive mystery.

In olden days,
the bards sang of consummate love
marked by burning passion
and hearts ablaze.

Then the tone shifted,
as Hank Williams moaned about cheating hearts
and those “Long Gone Lonesome Blues”
when love drifted.

Tonight
I’ll add my own chapter in verse--
another
“somebody done somebody wrong song”
about sleepless nights and whiskey rivers
that flow into the dawn.


I’ll write it
true to life, like Kristofferson does
with his dynamite wit--
a melancholy melody
packing lots of grit:

A surging tide of passion
engulfed us
when first we met.

Suddenly, our bubble burst
like a solar flare that flames white hot,
then is gone in an instant.

Although I try to swim the raging sea
of pain and misery,
the undercurrent in the rip tide
keeps pulling me down,
and I’m drowning in an ocean of tears.

A ray of hope seemed to shine
through that amber potion in the glass,
but it was only the ruddy glow
from a neon sign.

Now, the glass
is as empty as my broken heart.

Glass after glass,
it’s the same thing every night.
Since she’s been gone,
trembling hands and bloodshot eyes
greet the morning light,

and I have reached
a fateful
impasse.



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