Visited

I see you standing in the darkness beside my bed
Your hair disheveled, dismay in your hung head
Hollow eyes that plead to be released from pain,
And I can't help you. I can't take your shame.

Held by the most brutal stigmatic lashing
Where were you when your life came crashing
down; when you left behind the babies to die
And I cry…
Not because I feel sorry for your plight
But for the lack of fight you had left
Before you turned your life to death.

Why do you cling to me? Out of need?
As if I can seek reconciliation for your deeds?
You want to put your burdens in my hands
in the hopes I'll wash them away like the sands
that are swept out with the tides
like the infinite times I've cried
for ones exactly like you coming to me
in the night, hoping to be set free.

You could have sought a sin eater
I know a special one but he's either
wandering or writing, singing songs
or fighting against some spiritual high;
He uses hemp to keep his sparks alive
maybe to subdue the humming of the hive.

I know you'll come again tonight
reasoning me with those dismal eyes
just as before I will turn to face the wall
watch your shadow dance, hear your whispers call
as I drift back into my sleeping.

I must defy your weeping
lest it draw me in
and I commit a sin
by rescuing your melancholy
I will not by prey your tattered folly.

Tonight I sweep your soul
into a silent door
closing it.
You cannot come again to visit
I am sorry; oh how I wish it different.

Dear departed death torn lady
your vision is fading.

You must understand I am surrounded
with ones like you. I am hounded
daily, nightly, by the saddened coquetry,
muses for endless lines of poetry
understood by few
but those who do
leave me feeling less alone
In the confounds of my home.

Vennie

(copyright @ DBV Publishing 2009)