Bespoke

Heart so lonely that never loved
But Coveted desired fretted for
Chosen objects collected art
empty misery is their part.

Heart a desert a great fire pit
Burnt out cold and hard as lead
With an acid core of discontent
Disconnected from compassion's shade

A bitter fire that burns like bile
Guilty innards full of gall
Desiring only to possess, devour
Smiling houri Instant guile.

In the end the soul crumbles
Into fine desolate particulate
All that's left
Of elaborate assembles
Deceptions dissolved
Blandness numbs
Blank walls are heart
Which don't cherish the ones
They hold.

Heartbreak hotel's pretty chambers
Walls papered with hearts and roses
Fire place full of burnt-out embers
Repeating patterns of paper posies.

Velvet curtains that curtail light
The mind too tired to contemplate
A dreadful dead weight beats inside.
Lost not in love but loveless fate

Hearts have queens and jacks and knaves
And some of us can still turn in aces
But a fool for love
Is a wildcard joke
And she will do
Au naturel bespoke.

(c) Amrita Valan 2017