I am guilty of treason against my own heart in ever losing faith that I would come know another soul of such passionate discourse; rapt through compassionate dissonance; endearing and kind, and warm

I've never experienced beauty of this nature, and if ever I could not find a single voice beyond what resonates with me here, I would still invariably be forever content

I've sought, throughout my entire life, what were inevitably all for naught; to beseech a heart as this

I would have traded all before it just for a moment to embrace it with all my own

This is the preface of a blessing unto a man who lost faith, long ago; the echo of a voice what crept in through mere dreams and left with stoic wanting of what never could be found before

I yearn to give my heart for this

Seasons pass, tempered by insalubrious fervor; treasonous design remiss of fate

An echo of prior songs resonate somber atrophy; mourn the passing of  constant defeat, stained by triumphant dissonance and disdain

Fear strides along the broken path, left alone and solemn and crass: Through sour feats of vindication, tones of plight become dismissed

Surfeit, the sound of temptation rides upon the crest of dawn, blinding darkness like calming waves caressing infinite stretches of sand: soft and warm; kind and welcoming, embracing in its gentle touch

Sentience hides behind a creeping fog, whispering secrets of life eternal, bearing gifts wrought through sensuous candor

Two threads lost, now found; slowly bonding, uniting purpose, rhythm, rhyme, and reason; born from the same cloth, garnering habit, singing in harmony what echoes from within

Beautiful, intelligent, staunch with profundity; stark, handsome, wholesome, and good

The call of a true home may finally beckon..

stoic, I remain

my heart starves

a faint sway grasps my body
the wind haunts me with staunch whispers of defeat
the vision i seek, blinded by the blank slate of minute crevasses
aching, wretched, withered, and old
the creaking splinters of a wooden door
black and acrid with a stench which feels so familiar
this scent i've come to know only as home

my body rocks to and fro, so close yet so far
every second never knowing which direction i'll fall
stuck in a personal purgatory, questioning what's behind
lost between what i dream of the life i want
and what in life i seek would merely only ever be dreams
i sink beneath the doubt of it all, it envelopes me like a blanket
but i remain so cold
tired, lost, desolate, worried

nostalgia is all that keeps me bound to this place
my head gently banging on the passage ahead
and i know, if i step through, i will fall
it's all that's left between me and the cliff beyond
i tremble with fear in thinking
when i find the key, would i creak a lonely smile?

i find no peace elsewhere
i hold no secrets here
i find no place that cares
i hold no value in anything without fear

my last true freedom is release

tell me my words bear any weight

the willing engage each other in such withering decay of life
like rending flesh and bone, it becomes tangible
grit teeth gnashing together all which was forced to choke down

i swallow pride to face the day,
the taste of iron lines my gums

tell me what im worth before i find a means to settle
tell me how to retreat
tell me

My heart lies elsewhere, my mind lies to me

I'd trade my fate to find a means to make the answer I seek come true, set free unto the will of sour circumstance and scathing plight; just to know how not to contrive meaning from something so unfathomably valuable.. to me

But I knock on doors laden with deep scratches and battered accents, prevalent with weary, somber aesthetic: withered by time, alone

I will keep searching, moving forward.. the voice I seek still calls to me

I am ill-content, unspoken, unbound