Treasure Island

James Darwin Smith II

(10/6/74 / San Diego, CA)

An Angelic Catastrophe


Graven soul sanctified
Coveted by denial
Weeping disciple
Flesh being worshiped
As the submitted cries in shame

Amassing greatness by obliviousness
Yet, deep down the victim knows
Of a void left with uncertainty
Created by a self-purposed dramatization
Of never wanting to be alone, again
Hail the Glutton Queen of Self-disobedience filled with punishable thoughts

Laughing on with insidious pride
Created by the phantom dreams of innocence
A Devil barely has any work to do
When an Angel sells herself
For the price of fairy- tale's assassination

And then sadly ever hereafter hits
Tossed, she is within barren afterthoughts
Cursed inside frigid regrets
As the reaping benefactor runs off to destroy someone else

And low and behold, All along,
There was an Angel not too far behind
Ready to hold her tight
Inside the warmth of a security blanket
Full of unconditional love, Full of grace giving natural light

But dead souls cannot see the living
When they are all but dead inside
There could have been a heaven on earth for this Angel
But now her wings have turned laden
Too heavy for the burden she created on her own
All on her own dismay

Never make Gods out of Men
For you will lose sight of your very own life
And then a metaphor is born
The Devil destroys your own dreams
Hope becomes accursed in destitution

The Angel that was not far behind
Starts losing faith, then takes his own life


You want a happy ending?
I suggest thinking before you act
Again, Can you even do that?

I sure hope so….
Cure your own blindness
Then you will see what this world is or should truly be all about…

Submitted: Monday, January 21, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, January 22, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

Written on 1/21/13

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