Tears made of Blood II

Rubescent tears soak the soul. I’m a rubik’s cube,

Incapable of being solved. Thus, the spirit is

Spellbound, driven to solitude. And she swoons,

Encapsulated in dreams—the visions of her

Lover, while I hope for lotusland, adrift a

Sensation. The nightingale sings of affection, as

We drown within emotional murals. And wildfire

Has swallowed a staggering soul, for her eyes

Whisper salvation. But I’m left to die, floating

Within pulsations, throbbing to a seismic tempo.

My koan has become my misery, even lightening

Within my arteries—but ever my treasure-trove.

Darkness has become my living fog, laughing at

My dreams. And a demon has drained my blood.