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Longing
"Love is the longing for the half of ourselves we have lost." (Milan Kundera) Poetry or prose.
Cover image for post Grief, Incarcerated , by VT_Poetess
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VT_Poetess

Grief, Incarcerated

Pathoses' sacrificial rainbow breath

solicits the unrivaled sternal ache

that spurns all just attempts to be confined

and levies shrill revenge for heart's Adored-

now sentenced to subjection without pause

to spend this lifetime in a noiseless cell.

Aphasic wails tattoo their glottal cell

with selfish blasts of frantic mourning breath

that riot pain, forsaking inward pause-

and mute alarms expose the guilty ache

that seeks escape to keen for its Adored,

hysterics solitarily confined.

Immobile airstreams choke on loss confined

by every suffocated larynx cell

within a sawdust throat that rasps 'Adored'

and thirsts for taintless, mountain-rainstorm breath;

alas, such punishment befits the ache

whose lonely penance segregates from pause.

Existence takes an anguish-sanctioned pause,

bemuzzled and unwillingly confined

in pity's dungeon edified by stony ache,

and empty years emaciate the cell

with secret weeping's paralytic breath

that cloaks in numbness to conceal Adored.

Unfocused memories obscure Adored

in fitful shadow smoke and whispered pause,

regret encumbering belabored breath

held hostage by a solemn life confined

to torment's dubious remembrance cell

that still abrades the scabby, ageless ache.

Faint murmurings bedim the hopeful ache

where love's resided, faithful and adored,

despite its rufous-speckled iron cell;

now wistfulness reclaims the will to pause,

surrender springing amnesty confined,

exhaustion reaches for joy's spectral breath.

Acquitted ache succumbed to astral pause;

at last, adored serenity's confined

and no one hears the cell's reposing breath.