Perfect lines
perfect space
Perfect formation
but nothing
Nothing to inspire
no well to draw from
when the truth runs dry
the lie grows
I plead with you, come fourth
and feed the hunger
that lives here
deep inside me
You were there
feeling the same pain
as lust is born
from deaths longing
Enlighten me my friend
give me what I need
feel me
and my fragile torment
Glare with me
blindly
across the vast dead canvas
behind the mask you wear
For what
must a vial be
but to hide such beauty
from the pleading eye
Cut deep
to pierce the wounds
that bleed the waters
of pure pain
Unleash the thirst
of raw emotion
that rains religiously
from every pore
That spawned the past
and then at last
it’s gone
there's nothing more
Clifton Redmond
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/starved-5/
