Lord Lonely

In his empire of shadows

drinking each day empty

cursing regrets

that the dark side

of his memory repeats

and dictates


does his sorry best

to keep them locked inside

the sad dungeon

of his own making


into which no light

can ever break

or any key

ever open its door.


What undiscovered love

he has also imprisoned

what self-induced

ropes of tears he makes

to tie his life to remoteness.


I wonder if he

will ever recognise

the sun?


if not

and because of this

he will succumb instead

to the intoxicated grip

of nothing


as if the eyes

of his soul

had been removed.


◄ when being soft becomes hard

dampened ►


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Wed 3rd Jul 2019 16:51

in recognition of liking and commenting services to this poem, I thank you all.

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Rose Casserley

Wed 3rd Jul 2019 15:37

and unfortunately Leon there are so many of these kinds of people still being left to fend for themselves. A lot of fab lines!

Rose ?

Devon Brock

Tue 2nd Jul 2019 21:00

Another stunner Leon. "the intoxicated grip of nothing". Yassir yassir indeed.


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Tue 2nd Jul 2019 11:39

? Devon. Have removed two last lines that I thought I had previously removed and hadn't-drat!

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