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lace of contrail
bitter cold
that window of sky
before the clouds came by
and streaming rains
that rush against the glass

and the radiator strives
shivering out its thin heat

unwell the darkness in your eyes
your anger hitching in your breath
we sip our tea
and search the rooftops
green with light
this thick pressed front
is walking in

our history dwells
like static between us
the passion a ghost
we are formal
in a grey pic

you will ask for your
needs that run hot
beneath your soul
and I shall refuse

the tea will grow cold
when you slam the door
and I shall take
the carnival down
this machinery of love

and watch the rain
and darkness fill
the room

Editing stage: 


Beautiful the dark imagery as i read this poem. Only thing i'd change is to take away a couple of ands ie (streaming rains that rush against ) ... ( i shall refuse ) Other than that i think it's perfect. Regards Roscoe..

Roscoe Llane,

Religion will rip your faith off, and return
for the mask of disbelief that's left.

some awoke to the red hue
awash in disc gleam glee
the sparks jumping in their souls
hot like sparklers in the park

and some await for dreams to wash
away the hush that sits like weight
upon their wings

the city full of light
like a carnival of souls

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