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by William P Strucke

the horrible presence
the stench of unwanted
lost feelings surround me
guilt number one...
why persist in this vision
while walls fall around us
weighing us down into this pit of disgust
lieing with each other
passing the moment
i want / you want / me
the question never asked
the answer surrounds us
thickening the air
until strangled, we admit the truth we can't love
your mystery's my pleasure
oh silent dark daemon
my tears only serve to flood our deep whole


Author's Note: the spelling is intentional

Posted on 05/17/2007
Copyright © 2024 William P Strucke

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