I stand above on this cliff,
Before me, a legion of colour.
As they march continuously, endlessly.

I demand them to stop, to become stiff,
Their colours, to fade in my land of grey.
For I can’t rest till they’re all grey.

My cries fall on Death’s ears.
Their power impossible to the light.
And the colours continue forward.

I want the sun to set,
The end of the day, the cold grip met.
Not for the moonlight,
But the sun heat, I’m too weak.
I want the warmth, of a cold night.

I pulled down the lights,
Lifted off the posters.
Removed my name from my home.
No more, are warm nights,
Or alcohol stained coasters.
I sit by the door, alone.

I stand triumphant, my words
echo here across the world of ours.
The woes that once plagued me, all
fall into towers of salt and sand.
A voice beckons to me, birds
come here across to see the truth.
One once great empire of words, fall
Into the ruins of what never was.

Double suicide, a modern love tale,
The ultimate act for another,
For when “love” surpasses our frail
mortal bodies, and we promise forevermore,
To dance in the void together.

Caged walls drip Tar.
My familiar prison cell,
Hopeless Escapism,
Futile Resistance,
Pathetic Optimism.
Fall, deep, deeper.
Into the place I called home.

i hate how easy it is,
to turn around and go.
it gives me grief,
just to know,
that all I need,
is some rope,
to abandon hope,
and the setting sun won’t rise anymore