Jethro Kisakye Mark Poems

Oh, fairest tongue, thou has departed hence,
Leaving mine heart in sorrow's great expense
A plague upon thy silence, say I
That hath bereft me of thy sweet reply
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I write to bleed ink
To scribble my soul onto paper
To stir what's deepest
And to awaken the dead
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While the night is dark, the day is darker
Horror seems pleasant, solace seems sad
Time, dearest time, what are you?
A companion of agony or joy?
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O, cruel lover, thou hath held my heart
In thy unyielding grasp where it didst smart
And when I sought to claim its left remains,
Thou didst neglect and left me to my pains
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On a lonesome string, she sat crying
Silent screams in her empty soul
A lonely soul lost in a loveless place,
A lonely heartbeat lost in a loveless crowd.
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A cipher stirs in the pit of my skull,
A morass of desire that only you can stir.
I'm drawn to your dark fire like a moth consumed by a flame,
A passion that devours and leaves me a hollow, gnawing desire.
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Friends are like shadows, they come and go,
Leaving wounds we seldom show or tell about
Their words and deeds, both sweet and cruel,
Leave imprints deeper than unending fuel.
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I have turned my glee to thee, broken,
In shards of dreams, my heart is unspoken,
Traces of laughter lost in the night,
Yet seeking solace in the pale moonlight.
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