My Queen

My queen,
You turn your back on me
I fight for you,
Yet you,
You wouldn't die for me

Understand this
My sword kills for you
Sends those who wish you harm
To the cold dark depths below
As you sing your sweet song of bitter sorrow
And stare where your lover fell

I beg
Beg of you
Take me now
Don't you see my pain?
The very sweat upon my brow?
My blood has dripped for you
And yet you love him still

Beautiful
Dressed in black
Yet cruel in your intentions
Gorgeous
Men fall for you
And yet you love the dead

Nightmares and Insomnia on South Boulevard

I'm walking in the rain
Hoping the aspiration of the cool drops
Will help clear my head
Cars splash me
As I wander
Aimlessly

Your face haunts my dreams
Your death stains my hands,
With blood I never spilt
My pillow has become the terror
My sheets my straitjacket

Sleep has become the enemy
And my body longs to become a
Traitor to my mind. (a Benedict Arnold would do no better)
My demons, (of which you are)
Haunt me....cackling at my misery
Reaching their pitiful fingers out
Just for the chance to cause me pain

(physcologists muse) philosophers wonder
At the human mind
The blame we can produce
The blame I produce
Could kill me
and then I'd be the same as those (in literal and figurative sense)
Battered and bruised
In a war with the machine of death
Speedily consuming them and causing their demise

Just for me to find
Never tell me its their fault
I never even tried (help was impossible and improbable)
I hold back my tears and cry in the [silence]

As the light turns green and the soldiers march to war.