Copyright 2004 Rachael Ross all right reserved. Intended for adults only. This text may be archived/reposted to free public access provided the author's name, email rache696@yahoo.com and this notice appear in the message body. This story may or may not be fictional in portion or entirety; any resemblance to persons and events are subject to discretionary interpretation by the reader. No fee or service has ever been provided to the author for this document, or for product placement. No animals were harmed in the making of this document.

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Some Poems
by Rachael

I have some poems, which you may or may not find 'on topic'. I make no promises about the quality either, but you might find something you like.
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Til death do I,
and unto death,
Breathe thy name
with my last breath...
Love,
Of all my sins,
Denies me absolution
And so the dance begins...
Desperation longing
And I in desperate sight
Offer thee my life,
As if the taking might...
Bring solace to my heart,
Give strength to my resolve,
Take pity on my passion
And with tenderness absolve;
This love from out my grasp,
This pain from tortured soul
With only death returned
To fill the empty hole. 

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'Tis dark my dear, and softly so
Into darkness I must go,
As midnight chimes upon my heart,
A whisper'd stab of Cupid's dart;
Have ever stars on velvet night
kissed the moon as lovers might,
Clothing her in brilliant lace
And dream as I of soft embrace;
Of wrapping her in passion's fire,
Tasting sweet the heart's desire?
Yet I, as morning toss'd
The memory of dreaming lost,
I shall wait thy gently sigh
And in the darkness quiet lie. 

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Silly girl, Life.
She cares not for love,
or money or the way
people walk all over us.
She's just passing through,
on the road to somewhere else.
And if you can't get that
through your head,
then just try Death.
He listens to what you say
loves you in soft arms and
protects you from that evil whore,
that silly girl I love,
life. 

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The light is dimmed
In the car, in your eyes
and in my heart,
Is this a long drive?
I ask
All our lives.
You're not talking
And I won't start,
But the lies, the lies
They never end.
What should I say?
I'll marry you? Go away?
Come again some other day?
So we can do this again,
Sit together,
Alone in the dark? 

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You'll never win, she said,
the girl upon the bed,
I'll chain you with my heart
and keep you in my head.
She smiled then, a parody
of what a girl should be,
and bit him on the chest;
she laughed to see it bleed.
Are you a man? she sighed,
how like a blushing bride:
a little blood upon the sheets
and into guilt you hide.
He took this as a compliment,
the quality of love it lent,
as if his pain could drive away
that which made him innocent. 

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White wastrel blood
thinly drawn
aching in my breast
beating the life
from me
bleeding in my dreams
I hate you 

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Blackness falls,
like a shadow on my heart,
blighting my dreams
and rending,
ceaseless,
the night of my life. 

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That's all I have that I felt come even close to necro/death fantasy. If you made it this far, thank you at least for that. Rachael. 


  
Some Poems