Woke from reverie
Cinders gathering at my feet
Nothing remains
Misaligned
Rearranged fragments of grace
He is there, still 
Dwelling
In the fissures of memory
Bleeding feigned devotion
I am not there
A ghost town
Where my heart used to be
Crashing melody
Freezing mercury, no more
Violet air in my lungs
These bones of what I used to believe in
I would have ripped through God
To be with him.

Grief blooms to break
Like wildflowers
Corroding spine, brittle
Wrapped in debris
The visceral need to immortalise
This parenthesis in eternity
Clouds dissipating between fervent hands
Precious transiency
Colliding with undying longing
Soil in my fingers, still
This unforgiving tide
Drowning me at sea.

An ocean bleeds
Through the spaces
Of my tremulous fingers
I taste decaying sentiment
Tucked beneath ritual
Adrift in reverie, still
Ruptured by the hand of fate
The outskirts of a worn out aria
Cosmic wasteland, lost
Treading backwards
Aftermath of visceral escapism
Faux antidotes
Once veiled in promise.

Lace these faux emotions
In trickery
To drench this void
Hungering for devotion
With flaming apparitions
Of sooth

Wrapped in debris
Of florid sensibility, wasted
Violets burgeoning
In the spaces
Between my ribcage
Turned toxic
These deflated veins
Eviscerated of content.

What was, constellates
At my feet
Like fathomless thoughts
Coiled around spirit
Like ivy
What is, consumes
And unsettles
These rayless irises
The halo that unhinged
To become a different shadow

The shadow of death
Seeps through the fissures
In the walls
Carefully sculpted
Arcadian descent
Ominous, fated
Where has this life
Drained away to
All that remains is
Discarded fervour
Inertia's unflinching grip

Past the border of
illusionary threadbare mirth
Lies blinding white
A penumbra of defeaning static
Looming over the being
The violent hollow that consumes
And never dies.