Preparing for battle
And mounting up
To face my enemy,
He finally revealed
Himself to me;
In the mirror,
He mimicked my
Movements perfectly.
Tag: Creative Writing
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When the last song is sung
And hymnals are closed
When the last bell is rung
And silence is broken
The chronicles of the tormented
Will be loudly read;
The names of the dead
Eternally spoken. -
My undying love for you
Has never changed;
Let the heavens welcome us
At the end of our days,
And may the worlds forever
Know our names;
Let tales of our legendary love
Be whispered in intimate settings,
And romantic cafes;
The essence of our commitment,
And dedication
Will be reenacted in plays;
You are the blood
That run through my veins;
On that day when all tears
Are wiped away,
I shall again hold your hand
And say:
Your are my light;
Beside me you stand
Adorned in white;
You are beautiful beyond
A thousand lush green valleys
At the dawning of the sun;
The kindness of your eyes
With no justice my words
Could describe;
The length and fullness of your hair
Are like a thousand endless waterfalls
Sprinkled with gold dust,
Glistening in the summer sun;
Your skin is a marvelous wonder,
Delicate and precious
Shimmering under a full moon
In the soft caress of the twilight;
Your lips are as soft and beautiful
As burgundy rose petals
In the freshness of the morning dew;
Your nose is like a perfect sculpture,
Crafted with the precision
Of the maker’s skilled hands;
Your earrings compliment
The silhouette of your neck;
Bracelets adorn your wrists,
Highlighting Your loving
And graceful hands.
You are my day,
And you are my night.
I love you … I love you …
Life could never destroy us,
And death could never separate us;
You are the wind that carries me
In endless dreams;
You are my rest …
And peaceful stream.
You are ingrained in me;
With tears in my eyes
And on one knee,
I affirm to all who hear or see,
That you forever
Are my lady. -
Pain rains from the eyes of the afflicted
Suffering knows no bounds in the void
The black hole draws in and slowly consumes
Cries and wailing reverberate in echoes of torment
Who will record the chronicles of the chronically ill?
Desolation takes hold and stifles unmercifully
The dead lie in state but their souls restlessly move
Sudden darkness covers all as the last rose is thrown
Under the black lace veil the last tears are shed for the unknown
The crow looks on from the shadows with piercing eyes
The rejected and desolate gather so heaven will hear their cries
They are counted in the hundreds of millions with sodden eyes
In G minor Devil’s Trill Sonata is played
It is the dawning of the sun that they eagerly await
In the sufferer’s role call one by one they say their names. -
The tormented wail.
Heavy tears of agony
Fall beneath the black veil.
The dead is carried
By horse and carriage.
A trail of sorrow follows
Behind in silent march.
The dark crow watches
From a distant perch.
Bitter cold wears
On the frailty of the old;
Their steps are slow,
And measured.
The hard frozen earth awaits.
As the lowering begins,
Red roses are thrown
From frail hands
With black gloves.
Freezing winds blow;
With tears and a final stare,
Cold and ashen faces
Slowly disappear. -
My lovely Phyllis Hyman, you never got the credit you deserved. Your songs move me to deep emotion; your voice a soothing balm of healing and light. Oh, sweet Phyllis, how your presence touched the world! Through your voice you live on. A beautiful woman of deep passion and love you were! You will never be forgotten; your love, your joy, your pain, your hurt, the secrets of you, are weaved throughout your songs in wonderful array. Your lyrics are written upon the hearts of us who connected with your heart and soul. You are remembered.
Phyllis Hyman: July 6, 1949 – June 30, 1995
Phyllis Hyman – Walk Away
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In my anxiety
I thought I had
Found an angel
On the day
You said that
You loved me,
But unbeknownst
To me
It had been
A work of trickery,
And the beginning
Of my misery. -
The gangrenous stench of torment scorches the nostrils
The rotten carcasses of many souls lie
The ghastly scars of cirrhosis are evident to horrified eyes
Under a black moon the fires of agony viciously consume
They have been rejected by blood but cry no more
Leprous outcasts and wanderers with no home they are
They walk the road of hell in hopes of reaching heaven’s door
Injured souls seek to repair themselves;
The hideous scarring causes the earth to turn away and weep
The oceans well up with rising tides
Peace and a haven is unceasingly sought with tears and bloodshot eyes.
Intimate Compositions 