Split

I painted the sky
thunderheads loomed
in each tiny raindrop
my sadness bloomed
I caught the cold front
heart does contract
waves of light
in solemn eyes react
perched on the branches
sparrows grew
leaves of the season
god there were few
i painted the ground
buried my soul
felt the pestilence churning
in the little black hole
teeth grind in a scowl
no stopping it now
harvest has gone fowl
no telling how
explosion, cracking thunder
it clings in my ears
it shatters my thoughts
breaks through to my fears
tension, intensity, relentlessly
bombards and discards.... me
no vision, no thought, no words on the page
no works in the halls not sunsets I gaze
no tears, no wishes, no hopes, and no dreams
those are all teases
for nothing pleases me
this pressure this passion
flow like broken pipes
into the page into my night sky
the darkness, the death, the shadows
I endure
waste no time in denying me
anything sure
and anything pure
this onslaught of actions
the lack there of
the putrid sound of silence
detriment to my love
still drops hit my head
seeping my own foul pain
the songs of desperation
all remind me of rain