As a cool wind from the cemetary im found dead in thought
Yet alive in jaded soul.
Breaking towards reflection of the place i never belonged at all.

Amoung the corpse of a past regret so many thoughts.
In endless hours of worry  it seems so easy to forget.
In this place rest is never final.

As I recall her scars the candle hid her intentions in shadow.
Wine as life flows untill the bitter end.
Notes to a suicide  poems of  angst known only to it's
misery laced author.

We cast clouds in sun lit skies.
Some pains bring happiness to thoose who cant see
past the self absorbed  dellusion we call memory.

The oceans  rythm a bottle kisses the thought.
It's alone my thoughts understand my ****** up reason.
Adictions of fear junkies of need.
Ive found my place in a empty corner by the fires light.
You cant lose your grip  when you never had hold.

Frayed are the edges of this worn book.
Devils in thought always know ladies who yern to
taste the wicked  madness without regret.

That tortured soul the depth that isnt there.
Blind from the excess even old vices seem more like
tired acts for others amusment.

It's in these hours i see the damge and beautiful flaws
of age.
Contact is hollow when the vessel is empty as I.
The monster ive become  clings to the reflection of thought.


As the rose dies for the memory of a bitter past.
Gone are the reasons.
A final drink to the lights that to often fade.