Sisyphus is buried beneath my feet
I confess that I am happy
Dionysus is in my dreams
Keeping me drunk on love

Face pressed against the cold window
Were you ever real
Or just somebody to forget about
I feel myself suspended in love

With no direction
To no avail

Love is for the phantom mind
I wish I could tell you
That I am in love
With the idea of falling
In love with you

A warm touch
To the aching heart
Seizes all thought

A nervous rush
Cycling deep inside
Hushed to sleep

By the memories
You emit sight unseen
Into my dreams

The world contained within itself
Dragging along slower than time
How did we get here

A world beyond reason
Where the sinners are free
And the innocent in chains

These wicked wastelands
Run thick with blood
And endless suffering

Enveloping
The forests and skies
The creeks and rivers
Into shadows that speak our universal silence

All the smiles captured on film
Playing backwards until
There is nothing but an empty feeling

Of weighted loneliness
That burrows deep
Into my heart

Seldom are the streets quiet
The children age by the window light
Outside it is spring

March brings the turning of the cold
The adults fester and rot, feeding themselves to their resting places

Wicked things brew far and wide
Sizzling and spewing like acid dissolving bone and flesh

The morning moon glimmering
Time has burned itself to the wax
Everyone is meandering their minds
Searching for a smooth door handle to grasp

There are doors but none to open
There are windows but none to peer out of
There are cars but no one to steer them
This is the apocalypse