The truths held true by all but one.
The hopes that faded with the setting sun.
Every caress is a stance to thwart
death if only for a second at a time.
As to embrace life in the throes of
total bliss is the purest magic of a
still night's reprise.
If I die in the afterglow I find it far
more rewarding than to be erased
in the misery of emptiness
ever-chilling arms of discontent.
Only the moon understands the
pain of a million tears shed over
what could have been and
ultimately never will be.
From the book The Mirror Masks Nothing from Whiskey City Press.
John Patrick Robbins, is the editor in chief of the Rye Whiskey Review his work has been published by Punk Noir Magazine, Lothlorien Journal Of Poetry, Piker Press, The Dope Fiend Daily, Fixator Press, Fearless Poetry Zine, Red Fez, Horror Sleaze Trash and The San Antonio Review.
His current book The Mirror Masks Nothing a split chap book with Kevin M. Hibshman.
Is for sale and available on Amazon.
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