London Rain

London Rain
by Jonas Hyde

Twilight’s tears pelt against the panes of my eyes.

For you I weep on this eve my love,
listening to the sound of London rain.

The pouring,
streaming sleet outside,
dances in concert with my own rivers of sorrow.

It was said when somebody knows you,
there is no comfort like that,
well you know me best,
and losing you is no comfort at all.

Then it was said when somebody needs you,
there is no drug like that,
well I need you now,
need you to take away my pain.

The night’s gale sings as she hears our tale,
the tale that has made us both cry,
the tale of our lives.

Yes this evenfall shall be the darkest of all,
yet in that lonely solitude the rain’s rhythm intones what my soul feels…

Nothing heals me like you do.

O’ Brother

O’ Brother
by Jonas Hyde

“O’ brother where art thou?”
a line of mirth true,
tho’ my pain is known by so few.
Can you hear me now?
Its been fore’er and a night more since I have talked with you.

Are you with me?
They say you are,
yet you feel so far,
lost memories I nearly can no longer see,
the wound of your death leaving this deepest scar.

When you were here we cried together,
but now I simply cry on my own,
surviving the added pain I am glad you had ne’er known,
for while you walk through the nether,
I walk this world alone.

To share your fate,
to steal your end,
my soul I would spend,
so my pain would abate
and my wounds mend.

For you once wrote of time,
and how it cures all,
yet it has not tamed the tempest of my torment’s squall.
And since to join you would be sin’s crime,
I must suffer for the long haul.

Since you have been gone,
I have tried to live as you would want,
tho’ fumbling through life as if an idiot savant.
And tho’ I try to welcome each new dawn,
in my nights your vestige still haunts.

So I call to you on this eve,
come visit me once more.
So we can speak of times of yore.
Because to this day for you I still grieve,
as you o’ brother I shall foe’er adore.

The Tempter’s Gift

The Tempter’s Gift
by Jonas Hyde

My soul is trapped in this darkness alone,
claimed merely a breath ‘pon being due.

The night mare led the carriage of my damnation,
long ‘fore my nous could prepare,
offering no chance for my ain redemption.

Eternal pain I bear,
the skin of my sin.

Can one feel sorrow,
for I so frail,
I of no wickedness?

Innocence I swear as all fiends do,
tho’ purity is a vestige currently lost to me.

Now the Tempter holds my fate,
ne’ermore to be free,
by cause of quill and blood.

Had I known better,
not to trust his serpent’s tongue?

This soul I offered as barter,
for my summer of a thousand dreams,
dreams shared with you.

O’ love is it true,
can you hear the cries of my anguish?

The suffering I can survive,
but it is the thought of you knowing the fee,
which offers true torment e’erlasting.

Tho’ as love is my sin,
I find refuge that shalln’t e’er be purloined.

For the Tempter may lay claim to my soul,
but can ne’er pillage
the gift of my summer with you.

Longing

Longing
by Jonas Hyde

Cry for me and I will weep for you,
my love my dear.

Lust for me and I will long for you,
luminescent essence of my soul’s darkening twilight.

The passion of my love,
will not set with any falling sun.

For e’ery eve’s tide,
ushers with it a wave of need.

Can you hear my words carried on the whispered winds,
as if a seraph begging for your touch?

T’was score or more,
since I felt your love?

My timepiece is a poet’s hourglass,
dripping sands of time into fore’er.

Is this what life calls for us my dragonfly,
the everlasting anguish of our lonesome wounds?

I wish ‘pon my star,
to hear my pleas.

“Your breath is my life,
and your heart is my light.”

I utter this orison,
to any deity who would grant me you.

But the essence of my entreaty
can not pierce the fabric of my nous’ net.

Nor does it carry ‘pon the whispered winds
as ‘fore scribed.

No it simply falls,
sullen and lifeless ‘pon the earth.

Longing to be heard,
as I long for you.

The Moment

The Moment
by Jonas Hyde

On shadowed night,
the gelid winds,
pillaged my soul.

From the darkness,
her hand ushered the path to salvation,
rekindling what I thought fore’er lost.

The luminance of my evening star,
the song of my muse,
the touch of my dragonfly.

I entered her cave,
the storm raging outside,
mirroring the tempest within me.

At first I doubted my eyes,
questioned my heart,
Did either betray me?

But her lullaby transfixed me,
soothing my fears,
bridging the col betwixt breath and dream.

Fore’er she spoke
lamenting of love,
of loss.

In return,
I could barely respond,
as I was lost within her.

Lost within her eyes,
wandering through her soul,
ne’er wanting to depart.

Trying not to mislay a minute more,
wishing time would cease for my passion,
I approached.

With a kiss,
our link was sealed,
bond framed by lust and love.

If a moment is measured by a breath,
than the meter of our song,
should be judged by the Gods.

For on that eve,
a night that lasts and lingers within my nous,
I had my moment with my muse.

The taste of her flesh,
the heat of her passion,
the scent of her lust.

Fore’er etched,
carved into the stone of earth,
woven into the fabric of our lives.

I recall her touch,
remember her motion,
and long to remain in that dance evermore.

The moment tho’ was fleeting,
as such is the curse,
of love and life.

The morn next when I awoke,
a dream it was not,
for there was my muse.

Still blanketed in my arms,
her fingers wrapped within mine,
our breath scoring a melody for the ages.

But there is where the pain begins,
when the moment ends,
when her song sings no more.

I want not to release her,
I yearn to keep her close,
but it was not meant to be.

For as hard as I tried,
for as long as I fought,
I received no more.

For my muse is ethereal,
and tho’ our bond was real,
her soma I could no longer touch.

As a spectre of the past,
a memory ne’er to be forgotten,
our time now exists only in song and rhyme.

But by cause of that night I shalln’t e’er forget,
the rebirth of my soul,
my moment with my muse.

Consume

Consume
by Jonas Hyde

I bestir to her essence,
burned within my psyche,
whilst longing for her touch.

Darkened princess,
she who consumes my thoughts,
nay my soul.

I strain for her,
for hair of chocolate rivers,
for the scent that entrances me,
for the eyes that pierce my depths.

Her voice gives me meaning,
as I yearn,
as I long for more of her victuals.

To exist within her heart,
to perish within her arms,
such are my sacred appeals.

Yet my entreaty is the Tempter’s gift,
a tainted endowment,
for I consume the wine of our passion alone.

I curse the solitude of this love.

To subsist in ignorance may not be as sweet,
tho’ surely,
would not be as bitter,
just with verity I can be sure,
such a life,
would be a sin of breath.

Thusly I step,
my umbrageous path illuminated by my Evening Star,
my intimate suffering mended by the salve of my muse.

I implore you,
consume my love,
for you consume me my love.