Softly spoken
Insult to injury
Golden token
Lost in the vending machine

Return return I cry
Through sleepless night and morning sky
Though gods may travel past my eyes
I can not justify your sigh

Spinning in vapid decay
A vast array
Of things we lost that day
Not the same
Never was okay
Pointless without your name
Powerless without the grave
Never was okay
Or sane

A glue
A clue
Of you
Binding thoughts and words to action
Maybe if I had a fraction
Of that faith or light
An endless plight
into the night
Or the stars
I don’t want to sit at bars
Not alone at least

Briefly breathing
Words deceiving
A slight seething
Pain beneath
Or under
Not above to wonder
Or wander
Ever tired out in yonder
Ever thirsty without water
Ever thinking without ponder
Sauntering serenely

Escaping my own feet
My heart goes beneath
Not even slightly discrete
Appeasing a seemingly pleasing piece
Of sanity humanity and vanity
Calamity awaits me