Velvet Scent

Her beauty can set ablaze the frozen winter night. My veneration to her is boundless and complete. She alone brings joy to the darkest sapience of my tragic strength. She affords me but a brief moment to hold and taste her joyous smile. When done and my fill is had it was if I lived well beyond God’s plan.

                But that glorious and fleeting savour of her was greater than any addiction a soul could bear. For with each sip she fed my weak being and too my desire to be nearer. She could enrich my poverty by her very companion. It takes but her gentle carom and my fears are at once rendered orphans and will roam as vagabonds far from my stead.

                I am therefore in her eternal debt owing her my port of salvation. Yet not a single tally doth she scribe, for as each day ends my transgressions she wipes clean. Each new dawn with blank slate I bid her true pleasures bring, and caress her sweet grace in my velvet scented hands.

-Johnny V.

Pained Creature

The frail, wooden ferry drifts past my station. Charon’s purse is heavy with my gold. Yet he will not stop and await my board. I will not make the river crossing this night, for my duties on this side remain unfinished. I first, God claims must forgive the cruelty she imparted to me, but this I cannot do. For then I must concur that harm and mal-thought were in her mind. Defeated thought it may be my heart is unwilling to accommodate her infliction. I must also accept that she is less than I believed flawless and precious.

She, like others before, is a bruised and pained creature of the Lord, with no desire to return to me. So hopelessly I linger trapped partly in both worlds but incompetent to join in the joys granted by either. I am but a surveyor, an observer of happiness and love enjoyed by others and pulled far beyond my grasp.

-Johnny V.

Love's Sojourn

Her articulation is but an echo within the wintry walls of my empty heart. I am no longer allowed to hear her false charms which once encouraged me blindly into a fresh Hell. I have moved beyond the matrons of prudence, their reprove harms me not. I will no longer give tongue and howl in the darkness. My anguish will not draw tears from eyes unfamiliar.

My delight for what is to come holds fast to its willowy mast. For this is a journey that has felt my charriot's wheels many a solar day.  I have passed this occasion more than I can remember. By chance it will become my endmost sojourn.

-Johnny V.

Courage

Impotent is he to filter the danger from the joy she provides his comfort. Yet she will not earmark even a sliver of the cognition to understand the difference. Her scent forever burned into the cryptic tumblers of his heart. But her mocking betrayal weighs heavy upon his soul, leaving it bland, dry, and awant for acceptance.

                Her cruelty will not encumber his stand atop the hill of passion, nor can she use her tyrannical sway to stifle his freedom to flee his brutal situation. So with renewed strength he can lay low the ramparts which she has held secure, and make weak her power to capture the whispers of mirth. His once weak limbs now bastioned with the impassioned flood of courage.

                He will however not taste the way she bleeds, for his mightiness extends beyond the ghosts in his head. He knows that life can be and imperfection confessed which atones prior sinful deeds. He considers that only desire lies deep within her cold heart of fame so he departs on impudent gossamer wings to become the thief of newly spoken dreams.

-Johnny V.