Poetry of Love, Loss, and the Occult |
Tortured Passion How can I wait for you? Your love saturates my vision, Your passion teases me, awakens me To the years, the centuries of pain... The snake coiled at the base of my spine, Kundalini shrinking, spinning and bursting, Rising upwards toward our connected, Ascending minds. Karmic pain, I can taste it on the air, Searching me out, Reaper of love Pulling me into the past, I can taste it! Bittersweet, oh, so bittersweet...torture. Why not the flames again, Why not the live-burial, Why not the poisoned arrow in the heart? How can I say I am sorry enough, My mistakes are raw still, My wounds are still open, God... Open bleeding sores, thick-skinned wrinkles of pain Lining my soul, coating my mind in self-protection. To lie open and vulnerable, What will you do to me, when will you see? Dena L Moore May 20, 2003 Tortured Passion is not currently included in any collection, but look for its release in the future. |
The front page poem changes every 2-3 weeks. All work on this website are original poems by Dena L. Moore and are copyrighted. If you would like to post any of my work on your site or in print, please contact me or my publisher for permission. The poetry on this site is only a very small sampling of my work. This page was last updated on July 5, 2003 Copyright February 2001 Dena's Poetry: Poetry of Love, Loss, and the Occult is Written, Designed, and Maintained by Dena L. Moore |
