Poetry: The Void!

Here begins my call on empty
slowly, fading, surely – longing
like the rooms of this abbey.
Not a drop of sound strumming.

Alone calls and turn me on,
showing less affection and says its more.
Locking my dreading nights for fun,
as we play games she knows the score.

Dark holds its hole
to my future, it is a fear.
Lucy should not take the role
while my morning looses the gear.

I know you feel the same too,
I and devoid, that makes us two.

Ruddapoet
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This here is the sound of my back breaking
Frail, fortitude sat to empty meekness
This is strength in my amounts of weakness.
Daylight looks bad when my eyes are waking.

The cloud is enough rain, the flood can wait
If the leaves die, what happens to the grapes?
The greater good is the one that escapes,
The lesser evil is the greater mate.

Avoid, these nights will keep revealing frames
Of droplets that will never fill a void.
Parroting in flames, bitterness still shames-
Our heart’s passion will never be enjoyed.

I yearn for stones that roll without mosses
Our ‘Is’ will dot the paths our T crosses.

Leonell
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Let her silence break,
Loud enough to keep her mute.
Resounding echoes told,
Tales of her weakness.

Let her darkness quake,
To exude her calm brute.
Come to her scared; dead-cold
Be not a fervent witness.

Stolidly, wait for a light
Startled, I watched with so much awe.
In her I could not see a thing.

Perplexed and uptight,
I sighed with a quiet caw.
She is filled with; nothing!

David
====================================
like a large vessel filled with nothingness,
Their toothless screams fill the air with emptiness.
“Marginalized’ and ‘Restructure’ are having quite a heyday on the blogosphere.
Social media craze is gradually taking over the atmosphere
Ours is like some National drama;
A panorama of sorts, compounding the suffrage of mama.
Quarrels keep filtering in at all angles
With such pronounced hatred that all but wrangles.
To what do we owe these subliminal hatred?
Why do we find it hard relating as trusted kindred?
Each now seeks a path away to ply,
but then does a running smell deter a fly?

There are voids in our hearts in dire want of feeling
The empty spaces left need sincere love for filling.

Noel