The intricate clamor of love ... befallen to silence

No conclusive words imagined
nor crowning words left unsaid
No promises made lightly
only to vanish like the decay
of a piano's final evanescent note ;
waning timbre betides
the haze of another lonely winter’s
cold light of day

The intricate clamor of love
befallen to silence ...
Such an absorbing contrast
between emotive naivety
and arcadian innocence lost

The land between the tides ,
blind hope abandoned at island’s edge ;
searching for a forgotten labyrinth ,
through the chasm at the crossroads ,
just beyond the washed out bridge
Clinging to comfortable with uncertainty ,
while holding onto something
you don't  need

Stop armoring a broken heart ,
it’s too late to take heed
Love is not some unhealed wound borne ,

there's already too much

in this world to make you bleed

The battle rages
within the muffled madness
deep inside the marrow
an unappeased soul
trying to stem the tide
a chastened loneliness

There’s no going back
for the lingering spoils
Unleash the quelling tourniquet
holding back the abashed tears ,
calmly succumbing to a numbing
sense of futility

And yet , the singer keeps singin’
the same ol’ song ..,
swelling to the intensity
that renders an awful silence ,
the consolation
masking the déjà vu
of the lingering ache ...

harlon rivers ... © December, 2014