A melody so
Beau-ti-ful-ly broken
It's- ghostly
To ears-
And the
Bone frore; psoriasis skin
Screaming vociferous
With claret shot
Token festered eyes
Could speak

Glacial strokes to
An empty
Mere,
Growing epicormic buds
For fresh-er-than-threshing
Squabbles.

Shadows speak
And evanesce,
When the blood
I made shivering
Seeps warmth; to tears.
I call for Help--

                        Guidance-

                                             Aid

It echoes and
I forget--
Why I came here.
While the big-ness of things and feelings
Are gone again.