Down By the River Front

As I stumbled across the river front, I discovered by a bridge a brain,
splashed upon the body's gorge, he who had been slain,
Rigor Mortise decomposed, I've seen old blood before,
every time I walk on by I want to end him more,
For every time I walk on by I welcome him no more.

Down by the river front where water floods with gloom,
where dead all rest in a bloody mess under a glowing moon,
I seek out my serenity, winds aren't seen but closely felt,
when will I be the next to perish for the pain that I've been dealt?

All I see by the river's tides are parts of he who died,
Those whose final days were spent hiding behind their cries,
Still I choose to venture down to see all hopeless lost,
For my sins, I hope I win, not pay the ultimate cost,
If I win, no more sin, my body will not rot.

slaughtered in dampened forests washed from soot of fleshy floods
are cherished friends scattered around, love stolen from their blood,
Who upon is dastardly enough to take my world from me,
When I find them clouds of hail shall pound with heavy flurry.

Down by the river front where my tombstone had been paved,
I battled back to get back on track, my world had been saved;
I try to put back together sorted pieces of my life,
to live what others cannot live from their death encountered fight;
I on the other hand shall follow the brightness of my light.

Paul Hickey Copyright @ 2012
05-10-12

Dust In My Eyes

This is a short poem that has to do with betrayal of yourself.

All grasped hands upon unworthy trails
are desert sands of dark betrayal;
Cold, numb, all of them stale
as hail storms of dust blind my eyes;
I cannot see, nothing is clear, I cannot feel,
inside burdens my soul to steal.

Paul Hickey Copyright @ 2012
05-9-12