The Curse of Hope

Hope is insidious in its waning,
lingering sweet like a sin,
an unspoken prayer
that betrays reason
in defiance of looming inevitability
while offering nothing more
than a lengthening of the hours
of a lonely vigil.


October Light

October light–

a vicious elegance,
a withdrawn luminescence
setting the world ablaze
in gold and crimson
while casting long and determined
shadows on the memory
of summer’s recklessness–

and I, in the hollow solace
of a hallowed season,
find myself a martyr
for the sun…


Here where the only shadows cast

are those we create,

with only the weight of the world

upon our shoulders,

heaven still seems so far away,

lost against the backdrop

of yesterday’s dreams

as they’re held hostage

by tomorrow’s tragedies;

I’m reminded that

the war between the heart and soul

is nothing more than

the war between Heaven and Hell

and nothing less than

the rebellion of earth against sky,

and we’re too busy

making victims of each other

to find peace within ourselves.