with each failing attempt.
confidence seems to drip,
into such pits.
Of lost what ifs.

Eternal hedge maze
There are men among the streets
In a plagued new year.
And none seem the wiser.
I cannot sleep,
as I watch random figures take midnight strolls
through rainy roads.
To home,
          or whereever else,
                                who knows.
Despite the vast majority of warning.
I sit with shades drawn,
    no difference from afore.
Like many others. Backyard windows open,
blowing cool air into stagnant isolation.
A calm before a storm?
Candle lit and thunder beckoning me back to sleep.
Im inescapable

Help me
help me
I've lost my mind
I delved to deep.
And my confidence died.
Troublesome indeed,
but no remedy to find.
I've done it again,
I've Lost track of time.
I'm much to weak,
To keep steady in pace.
And when doors open,
Ill slam in thy face.
I'm much to sensitive,
To timid ,
and
Scared to the touch.
To Rough on the edges,
They think I'm to much?
I fear for my grace,
my dearest,
if one.....
I fear for the nexts
And rise of the sun

"The tongues we speak, from out of the black abyss.
A chilling desolate sound. Searching
Of fury
and love
And wisdom ( mostly screams echoed)
We set this up as such,
With a magnitude to damage.
And soak the fears like kerosene soaked wash cloths. Which we disposed of on bridges that burnt through the night.
Breathless from the smoke, i shield my eyes.
To no avail, it burns them still
In a collage of envy i had lost myself Dear Friend.
Time and Time over.
Id see the downfall and yet not acknowledge it consciously.
Im slowly regaining my balance with more weight."

Im lost like the dead
In a cool summer night
Winds weave together
Poorly
And i walk with all might
Serene Chaos
In ol pale moonlight
So pale, so pale,
The palest I'd seen
None would quite know
Your special black gleam
So Leave Me To Rot Here
In this Grove all my own,
Grown accustomed to rain
And the deaf silent tone

Afflicted notions of my own.
From those who filled with false adoration.
And sprung new hope now gone.
Who left
with little to no revelation.
No epiphanic thought.
Just another name to rot,
lost
Forgot and caught
in tandem oceans of
Fury and Envy.
Envy being strongest.
Among all my lost causes.

There's this thing,
    A swelling thing.
A feeling, beating. Lifely thing
    ...And...
There's this
     HOLE.
A Gaping, Raging,
Tense and Tender Hole.
  There is filling and seeping
And a mighty repetition
of both.
      There IS life and loss within a pulse.
     There are repairs
and still subtle cracks within the cold stone walls grow.
    They LINGER and GROW.
and grow
and grow
    But there  is no eternal Mason's in this wickedness
INside