Slop Weekly Challenge Promises

Promises

Promises I never made to myself
Promises I forgot
In evening's remembrance
Promises are unkempt,
Tired and dirty
Quick and tardy,
Dumped in the parking lot.

I never heard the good news
Little waif untimely lost
The inner voices in my head
Raged Babel.
Myself I forgot.

To redeem, to reclaim
The name of the game
I forgot to make  promises
To honour
Payments never made
In pain.
The name of the Rose is Brazen
A vicious cipher eating out its tail.
Now heads up tails down
Pain,
Either which way
Its price unclaimed.

The price displayed on request
Requests that can't be made
So much for empty promises
Leave requiems for those undead.

I haven't taken the oath of life
I abdicated the vows
And accepted the snow-capped view
Of mock minarets
Shahid Minars of show.

The windows of life
Are narrowing down
The games changing
Or just winding down
But one harsh promise
I won't forsake.
Dead leaves of sweet decay
In Billowing time,
Winter buries its fangs
On my rusty rake...

I will
Grip every rose by its thorns
In my yearning nails
Tearing my palms
Till they are bled
Of all the sweetest sap
That I have left.

Promises wreath me
In mists of past mistakes
I wear my Fool's crown
My post dated quest
To glean insights from
these velvet petals
Till they shrivel me dead.

(Eat up the eternal dark
Till water of love and light
Herald of new life
Ever faithless
Under the sun awakes.)

(c) Amrita Valan 2017