A Lover and A Killer

Shattered Hearts

Shattered is the heart of the man who loves but whom cannot be loved,

A hopeless romantic, a dark wood surrounds his heart, bitter rotten trees.

They litter the carcass of the hope he once felt, oh how hope she is fallen,

Hope gave him courage in the day to press onward, believing he could be free,

Free to love, to dance, to sing with that one he loves, yet now he is so melancholy sullen.

Hope is slain, you hear it in the streets, it rings out in the towers and corridors of the heart,

Slain, brought down, put to rest by a cruel pointed arrow, a poison dart.

Whence I came I shall return, I will sleep forever in my dark dreaded wood,

I will lie down never again to rise, I will fall as Hope did, dying on my bleeding side.

If being the romantic causes so much pain, why must I continue to do it, to put myself to shame?

If I cannot have the glorious beaches of content and comfort, perhaps it is not me that is hope’s bane.

Perhaps it is not by my hand Hope fell never to rise again, but perhaps it is all of them,

Those tricks and temptations filling my head and heart with nothing but lies.

I remember the days long past, when I would chase Hope, my childhood friend, so fast,

So swift was she that I could never catch her yet she was always there next to me.

I recall sitting under oak trees made of iron, shielding her and I from the burning sun, exchanging

Stories with each other of our dreams, our plans, and the sights of content and comfort.

But now Hope’s body lays cold in my hands, as i cry and shout and scream “Am I not a man,

Worthy of love, worthy of attention, worthy of a gentle embrace, a sweet sensation?”

Now I lay down one last time, as darkness closes in and I conclude this rhyme...

Shattered and battered indeed is the heart of this poor wretch, yet at least now I’m freed.

The Murderer’s Reflections

Spending sleepless terror-filled nights alone and cold again,

Thinking endlessly of my past, of my cold dark sin.

The image haunts me as I lie in dark sleep,

The horror my mind still clings to keep.

I am a monster, the worst breed of sinner,

Cold hearted and merciless, a murderer, a killer.

How could I stoop to such a low and dark place, the lowest level,

Lucifer thinks of my sin and pondering it in joy he revels,

Knowing that I am yet another soul he has caught,

With innocent blood my place in hell was bought.

I have made mistakes, I have failed mankind,

My distorted thoughts and past I cannot leave behind.

I write my rhymes and poems so people may see,

Who I am, to show them my thoughts, to see the real me.

If I could go back in time I wouldn’t make the dark mistake again,

I’d stop my younger self in his chilling, horrifying sin.

But the past is set and it cannot possibly be changed,

I’m now just a raging lunatic, I mentally deranged.

Save me from these haunting nightmares, these thoughts in my mind,

Rescue me from my past, to a withered soul please be ever so kind

As to let me see once more the innocent light of day,

Remove from my history those cold bloody thoughts that stay.

I ponder the magnitude of my regrets, and I think of my damning foolish mistake,

But my ticket in hell is bought, there is no possibility for escape.

At least when I die I will only burn, but will finally be at rest,

Knowing that living with my deeds is the true test.

For a million years burning in hell,

Is better than my thoughts, a ringing, shattered bell.

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