Mending Fences

I don't really know if what I write makes sense or if it's even any good. All I know is writing is a cathartic experience and putting words to paper soothes the soul. So I write and try not to worry about the rest. I write for me and share for you. Today, good or bad, this is what came out. 

“Mending Fences”

All the hurt in the world

Rests heavily on a broken heart

The sunset of a life

Breaks the bright days apart

And I, alone on this side of the abyss

Reach for you through the never ending dark

All the tears welling in my eyes

Spill forth like tiny silent threats

Washing away guilty houses

Built of sorrow, shame and regrets

And I, behind shuttered blinds

Pray for forgiveness and resets

All the pain in the world makes

An ocean of misunderstanding and indifference

Where the pieces of a life float away

In a raft made of dreams and innocence

And I, sitting in your old rocking chair

Hope there will be a time for mending fences

When Darkness Calls

I am starting to realize I like to write some dark shit. Found this little guy in the pocket of one of the folders I am using to store research for my novel. I wrote it some time within the past few months. Not sure when. Anyway...here it is.

When Darkness Calls

Dead eyes stare across deserted barren wastelands.

Scorched canvases splattered with dark red paint.

Bodies writhe and slither on desecrated ground.

Blackened branches clench aching muscles tight.

Thorns scratch and tear at tender unmarked flesh.

Blood beads and flows over paper white skin.

Thick heartbeats echo through broken empty spaces.

Cold hard steel replaces supple skin and bones.

Pull and push silent screams of pain.

Battlefields of death and blood remain.

Wars fought and lost.

When darkness calls.