my black-black heart,
in this cruel-cruel world,
bleeds the coal-dark matter --
hoping to grow cold --
yearning to drain cold --
needing for my fire
to burn low and fold --
i don't want no pyre;
i don't want them cinders;
friction sparks -- be gone
from my heart's split timbers!..
AH --
my charcoal heart,
in this vicious world... --
yes: goes back to normal;
please!
go back to normal --
into dungeons deep,
into dungeons steep --
where my onyx blood
safely rounds and seeps,
soiling solid ground
with its pain --
to keep!
YES,
my thick-skinned heart:
that's --
much better --
now!
we will bleed this soot
-- (aeons harsh may pass) --
till my yen it thwarts --
(c)kRu, 12.03.-02.04.21
https://roshkakru-poems.livejournal.com/59339.html