A Young Boy

A Young Boy

A Poem by Ian

The second of a pair of poems about two young people. Make sure you read the first one. It is titled "A Young Girl."

The young boy starts to run away,
As the children around him play.
Them and their innocent minds,
Acting as though he is blind.
Their hearts reflect the clothes he wears,
And their words puncture his skin, fair.
When the pain they inflict doesn't suffice,
They then use their corrupt christ.

Even when the young boy pushes the blade into his own skin,
They strike him again and again.
It wasn't his fault that he was created this way,
For it was upon that bed where he lay,
When that bright light showed him his lover,
Whom he loved more than a mother.

Then with one foot behind the other,
The young boy envisioned the face of his beautiful lover.
His whole world seems to dissipate,
As his memories start to recreate.
Recreate all that has been seen and gone,
Till he saw what he had wanted all along.
Suddenly blades rain from the skies,
And now in her grave she lies.

As the boy runs hot tears stream down his face,
and he can imagine the young girl's grace.
At a distance he looks behind him,
To see small demons horribly grim.
Up the hill he climbed,
With no sense of space or time. 
Suddenly he grasps something in his pocket,
And his heartbeats escalate like a rocket.
He thrusts the object into the dark,
And on his clothes red liquid leaves its mark.
When the young boy opens his eyes,
He realizes he will no longer have to face all their lies.

The young boy then recalled his yearning,
As he feels his head start burning.
As from the sky comes a shower of rain,
He knows only one thing could ease his pain.

Drenched, up the hill, he does tread,
To where the only sleeping are the dead.
The young boy walks through the gate,
And pushes aside a door of slate.
He then steps into the entrance of the tomb,
Of which said that only the dead may loom.

He walks to the end of the staircase,
And upon the coffin, his hand, he does place.
Then, as the young boy pushes the lid aside,
To the young girl's body he feels his soul glide.
As he sees her corpse with its eyes of stone,
He realizes that his soul is not alone.

Inside, his soul starts to call out,
And as though to answer, his beauty does shout.
He grasps her body so tightly,
As a her chilling fingers brushes him lightly.
Even dead, so brightly her face shown,
As it slowly approaches his own.

So cold is the young girl's touch,
That the boy tightens his clutch.
As the girl's lips leaves his own,
He can feel her skin and hear her moan.
The young boy's lover then reaches into his pocket,
And flips open the blade as if it is a locket.

As she impales the blade into the boy's heart,
The young girl whispers in his ear, "now we can never part."

© 2012 Ian

Author's Note

Let me know how you liked it. Make sure to read the first poem of the pair. Thanks

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Added on August 10, 2012
Last Updated on August 10, 2012
Tags: Dark, morbid, obscene, obscure, odd, weird, romance, lover, love young, girl, boy, blood, gore, horror, magic, mystical, witch, witchery, spellcraft, occult, spell, sacrifice, creation, death, life



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