The Fireplace (By Black Angel)

 

THE FIREPLACE

A reflection of scolding hot truths

Fallen ungracefully from burning almond wood.

I dwell upon a hundred and one mistakes.

Sordid ashes

A once pure soul

Now damned to be one

With the frigid brick floor.

2012 by Charles Banks, Jr.

Writing as BLACK ANGEL

Excerpt from the chapbook,

Brain Weeds and Depressed Souls

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Death is Salvation (By Black Angel)

DEATH IS SALVATION

Death is a certainty

Salvation, however, is not.

A cynical thought, it is

To have in the wake of my shutting eyes.

It lingers like the inevitable finale.

So abrupt death is

As it stalks closer and closer.

Is it salvation that looms ahead?

Or is it merely the end?

Salvation is the rough hand

That strokes my hope so gently.

A savory thought, it is

To have on the eve of my final respire.

It remains like the aftertaste of defeat.

So exclusive salvation is

As it vanishes into just another fantasy.

Is it death that looms ahead?

Or is it simply the beginning?

2012 by Charles Banks, Jr.

Writing as BLACK ANGEL

Excerpt from the chapbook

“Brain Weeds and Depressed Souls”

Wavered Faith (By Black Angel)

WAVERED FAITH

I feel

As though

I am lost.

Every single step I take,

Hope eludes my clutched hand.

I feel

As though

I am sick.

Every single thought I have

Seems to reap pessimism.

I feel

As though

I am falling.

Every single stride forward

Only invites slow regression.

I feel

As though

I am slipping.

Every single aspiration

Means little now.

I feel

As though

I am nothing.

2012 by Charles Banks, Jr.

Writing as BLACK ANGEL

Excerpt from the chapbook

“Brain Weeds and Depressed Souls”