blooming in grief
By Taunting The Reaper
pale, wicked moonlight
peeking through stained glass windows
drawn to them
their brittle, colorful vulnerability
brings it closer
and the glass begins to fracture
subtly at first
then in tandem
with every stroke
whispering softly
seducing madly
through prismatic glances
kaleidoscopic birthday cake wishes
incandescent prattle
it searches
for a face that hides in memories
as if it were a ground hog
waiting for better seasons
caught like a wasp to a flame
moonlight dancing with stained glass
shards of love falling
spiraling to their doom
much in the way
the eye of a hurricane
spirals in despair
tasting the landscape
bodies bleeding
panic spreading
moonlight singing
and I,
spinner of this web
like a stained glass spider
entertaining the moonlight
offering it solace
as if it were a peace pipe
hiding my words in the crevices
of the saddest smile
one covered in the dust
that once covered my heart
yet I dared to hope
and in some impossible way
I found the moonlight migrating
to my synthetic lips
and I smiled
a wide and gleaming smile
showing teeth
like evenly carved tombstones
each inscribed with a single message
beware of the past gone flames
they are as demonic roses
blooming in the delight of your grief