Treasure Island

James Darwin Smith II

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

Love's Sickness


Upon a day’s dread arrives
In solitude’s arms, dismayed
Yearning for something felt before
As the heart begins to beat in disarray
Making the body, soul and mind pay
For what it should be feeling today

The heart wants, Wants to feel a good morning sunrise
Serenated with a smile sealed with a sweet tasting morning kiss
Lips remising together on the best of times
Cherishing the present
As the feature seems so safe and secure
With no breaking, No pain
Feeling as though it’s floating on a cloud
Made of golden dreams of angelic bliss

But then the heart begins to hurt
Afraid to beat to the sound of love
Too much hellfire within
Empty promises burning its core
Does not want to be hurt anymore

The heart eventually wants to become a stone
Sick of the torment of being all alone
Tired of wishes washed dry
But the beauty that was felt
Within the murmur that rented its space
only to leave without a trace
As everything becomes a residual
Of a heart that keeps being thrown in waste
In a vast wasteland of a torturous dwelling
Where even hell starts feeling like it’s being spoken in vain
Wanting to burn more than being a game of calamity’s doing
Inside the wrath of love, where pure hearts eventually become mad and insane

Still, Even after that
The heart dreams of love again
The phantom pleasure before the insidious pain
How can a heart truly be loved?
When all life is but a harsh cruel game

What is an Angel, What is a Demon?
Why did it have to come down to all of this?

Submitted: Tuesday, September 17, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, September 18, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

Written on 9/17/13

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