The Keeper of the Walls

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The Storm is moving closer

The peace, the security;

Anger strikes out knowing no reason.

The weakness to be strong

the elusive quality of tears;

a sorrow lifted.

The knowledge of the alluding strength

– my salvation –

The holy water of your tears

turns me to bitter wine.

– Goodbye –

The walls cannot crumble

The heart does not break apart, evenly

The intensity of feeling, the passionate emotion;

Nearness, togetherness…

Distance, innocence…

– Au Revoir –

To know my soul, my heart

open the windows, my windows…

Look behind the curtain

to my soul, through my eyes

– Welcome –

The Keeper of the Walls

© All Rights Reserved Kim Koning.

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Letting Go…

Hands Of Desperation

Pain

Receding and returning

Burning, constantly churning

Alone

alone

The feelings

indescribable

ever elusive

Emotionally abhorrent

mentally abusive

An act, a mask

a tear behind a smile

The wall shutting out

the pain

the fear

Unapproachable

My heart at odds

no hearts breaking even

Twisting and turning

my strength keeps me burning

yearning…

The once insuring strength

always an alluding weakness;

The Keeper of the Walls

the key, the entry, was…

But one has touched the brick,

the wall; a barricaded entry

An allusion of uncertainty

veiled by the cool

collected calm

– Two –

© All Rights Reserved Kim Koning.

hate is not an emotion…

HATE IS NOT AN EMOTION…

Learned at an early age no one knew his power, he was a wolf turned loose on unsuspecting prey
She and her uncle had a on-going play date, unfortunately abusing his family’s trust wasn’t his greatest sin
While the parents were away, the dear uncle would terrorize the young girl in the worst way
Innocence stolen and childhood lost, lessons learned never to be undone
Hate is not an emotion, it is a mate

Off to college, time for exploration, growth and fun
Learning, adventure, friends, athletics, laughter, all undone by the daggers of life
Tragic death of mom and dad, the dear uncle blocked all attempts to protect her little sister
In the eyes of the court, the dear uncle was the perfect caregiver
Hate is not an emotion, it is a lifestyle

College complete, career decisions to be made
Offered to coach volleyball, a different path existed
Law school was the choice, before a life in the Secret Service
If she couldn’t protect the one she loved most, she would protect the one who was the most powerful
Hate is not an emotion, it is a powers source

Three Presidents all knew her name, her reputation grew but not faster than her fame
Dedicated, Honest, Vigilant, Powerful, Demanding, Prevailing were the games of her name
On 9-11 her will conquered incompetence, the President shuttled into town on the most secret of ways
The world thinks they know the truth it was all a ruse, but that is a story for another time
Hate is not an emotion, it is a way to serve

Loss called at two am, her sister perished after a drug fueled night
A visit with her dear uncle, following the saddest of wakes
Appearing at the door his time was nigh, he was no longer alone as death was his visitor
Knowledge in the way of law maliciously planned, the perfect murder was ruthlessly executed
Hate is not an emotion, it keeps me warm at night

Years later a new day was offered, the call came from three men she thought she knew
A way to serve free from distraction, it was okay to leave the pedophiles in traction
No killing was the only rule, she found Heaven on Earth with violence as her calling card
Protecting those who could not protect themselves became her new mission
Hate is not an emotion, it is who I am

Leading the Blind

No sight is ever left behind,
Except when money can be made,
Then the ignorance is palpable,
Preying on all the dupable,
It is their only stock and trade,
By them all evil is defined…

They love only their own kind,
Only for a price is fury stayed,
Though they are quite capable,
Yours is a loss acceptable,
Your wages are already paid,
Just another of the lowly blind…

No straight path you’ll ever find,
Save the trenches where the young are laid,
You become one of countless parables,
By your blood, our land is arable,
By your loyalty you are betrayed,
Trust them, you won’t even mind…

Ages past, the contract was signed,
Paper, ink, and seal decayed,
Untarnished though, are all the fables,
You dream of feasts at heavenly tables,
Until every hair has greyed,
Then at last, your coffin is lined…

Brutal

Seasons change, mountains turn to sand,
Rivers run dry, sea withers to land,
But my brutality shall last forever,
Never shall I loosen this hand,
Ever will it bear the brand…

First to shed blood,
To cry remorseful tears,
Left my brother in the mud,
Forgot his name after many years.

All for a sacrifice born of vanity,
Rejection drove me to insanity,
My only recourse was to sever,
Turned sacred ritual into profanity,
Sold for a song my humanity…

Tears become a flood,
As conscience sears,
At that sickening thud,
Confirming darkest fears.

Raw

stay

You walk away,

I wait

Gone

The world breaks apart

The groaning earth cracks 

The heavens tear asunder

running,falling

Eyes burning with the sting of salt

My chest aches, the muscle of my core cracks

Bile rises up in me

Rivulets of Blood flow in a cage of ribs

Claws of Malice grasp into the beating muscle

Spilling my life through its talons

Terrible keening fills the air , something is dying

Eyes drowned in tears

I stumble in a half run 

seeking the dying creature

The agony of its violent pain deafens me

Crowds surround me, mouths moving, mute

their faces are blank, deaf to the cries of the dying

Talons are clawing  at the broken muscle struggling in my chest

I fall, My mouth is open, my heart pleads in agony

The broken thing  lies fallen, curled in a womb 

Cries as old as the earth tear out of my mouth – echo tears in my heart

The  heart struggles in weakness, 

Salt crystals grate into my cheeks

I watch as the hand tears open from within me 

hollow

heart lies next to me, dull and grey

curled in a womb

the tide of tears from the grotto deep within

rises in a flood out of me, drowning the shadow of my heart

silence – cold, hollow finally stills the creature

soft whimpers are the only echo

lying, a curled up husk in a womb

sorrow covers its naked form in heavy layers

blanketing the creature complete

the stitching of sorrow is the thread of your love

pulled tight through the needle of your cruelty

yours are the talons rending my core into shattered remains

my heart lies without, torn from me

dull, greying muscle 

– a heart dying

– a husk curled in hate’s womb

– a creature hidden in sorrow’s quilt

love

______

hate

raw

*Published online in Undead Poets Society, August 9, 2010 by last_lines

© All rights reserved Kim Koning.