Tag Archives: loathing

Idle hours

Night falls
And the door of
Loneliness
Opens once more

Wandering thoughts
Leading deeper
Endless hours
Pass by idle

Tears born of
Frustration
Wanting so much
To believe

While truths falsities
Ebb and flow
Raging as the sea

To shed tears of happiness
Heart swollen with joy
From the gift of truth
Another should bestow

But what illusions spring
From a bounty of words
While reading the pages
Of one’s very soul

A beacon in the darkness
Wrapping round the heart
Come to life on a virtual page

Where freedom is found
Chained spirits do soar
And the abyss calls you
By name

© jillterry

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Truth Defined

If I hadn’t
Loved him
So
Much

My loathing
Wouldn’t run
So
Deep

© jillterry


Means to an end

means to an end

With old patterns faltering in the wake of time, serving him less and less; desperation creeps, then slowly sets in.

Searching for something real to cling to; in a world of illusion and cheap parlor tricks; of which he created and has always dwelled.

Better to be an imaginary somebody, than a real no body; his platform, his soapbox, his mission, his salvation.

Spewing his gospel as weightless as smoke rings, growing bored with his half dozen converts; unable to stroke his monstrous ego; he sees only one place left to go.

One soul he touched. Upon a time was touched by. He refuses to release and let go. Disguised as forgiveness, he sets about his mission; back to the only arms left, that wait wide open.

Naïve and weak, yet privy to his ways; a masochist for certain, to take him back in. She is not the reason, but merely a convenience. Providing him shelter, buying him time; bringing him closer to where he believes salvation resides.

The beautiful butterfly, with delicate wings; once so fragile, easily ravaged; consumes his thoughts, still rules his darkness; and so true to predator form, of which he will always be, he sets about stalking, making connections; broadcasting his relation, as if guaranteeing him a position. Wasting time, sniffing and searching; for the butterfly has morphed, long ago taken flight.

And so time ticks on, for this wasted life; over educated and under achieved. When he could have soared to the greatest of heights; been a true inspiration, perhaps a revered master. But the only expertise, he can lay claim in the end; is leaving a trail of pain, in the wake of his disaster.

© jillterry


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