Twisted tale. . .

Love in ruins

In moonlight’s chilling embrace,
We lay the divinity of our love’s grace.
Defying the homophobic shadows
That creep in like a race.
In this haunted forest,
Of nosey leaves and talkative birds.
we lay our secrets to deep sleep.
To close chapters that witness how we weep-
The long suffering seeking acceptance.
Ghostly whispers,hate etched on tree shoots
Mournful cries, dead to divinity.
In the dead of night,
Darkness thick and quick.
To devour the divinity of our love’s grace
Dreadful howl of the wind.
Stripping apart our whispers
The moon hides its face.
Denying us it’s light in this chase
To love without fear.
Evil takes flight.
Tighten it’s belts high and low.
But we aren’t ready to bend so low
Either….
In this sick world,
Which begun with a word.
And chosing not to walk with it
In this sick world
where hate unites every Tom Dick and Harry
To create hell on earth for John Rick and Garry.
The uncertainty lingers like a migraine
the horrors it holds, the pain it causes
In this twisted tale,
where terror unfolds.
Because we cannot love the same.
Where to some, it is for fame
To term others as lame.

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