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Tired and naked:
Lying on the mattress,
Flicking a cigarette;
The candlelight sways
And it's all my poetry crap;
You pretend that you give a damn.

Shadows blink as the
Candles flicker, dying,
Waiting to meet The Maker
And share the poetic hysterics.

Fascinated by the sound,
Yet nothing is there to hear.
But this and that
Comments the complaints,
Berate the deviants.

Paraffin wax melts,

And so do you and I
In this beautiful room by candlelight.

They dance, they quiver.

You puff the smoke:
They hurt your eyes.

Tomorrow is terror,
Yesterday was bliss,
And still they keep ringing
In the ears to deafen you,

Threaten you with dark premonitions.

Of course you don't know.

You will never know.

------
rbs


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The following comments are for "The Oblivion of Paraffin Wax"
by Lasher





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