There is a dark musk in the air,
the breeze in my lungs explode with despair,
a remark of my tribulation,
my forlorn, eternal damnation,
the burden of my affliction,
my relinquish, my submission,
my loss, my plague,
this abandonment, vague.
-
The hour approaches where I renounce histrionics,
this ridiculous existence, shallow and ironic,
-
as I slash through these weeds,
I become ever weary,
trying to grow soon-to-bloom seeds,
I can’t conceive clearly,
what I had set out to do first,
yet I encounter pain, and wish for rebirth.
-
I look upon obscurely scribed lines
and take them as commands
and as I gaze up
I realize I have failed to meet their demands.
-
the blood on my hands, and in my thoughts,
the bodies in my mind, turn to be naught
to frequently miscarry and meet with disaster,
just to be in the shadow of another caster,
makes one wish for eternal rest faster.
-
a prisoner an only go so long,
before hating his cell,
ask for another,
and hate the most recent still.
-
yet I yearn, yet I crave
for the love of another and better days
-
all the while, forsaken stress
consumes me blind
how can it be possible
when I again fail to find
that which I seek, ever so
and continue to be, ever alone,
although those who speak of which they know nothing of
will one day find themselves answering above,
-
I find myself fallen and broken
with no trace I had slipped
no one to me my answer spoken
without as much as a quip
so shall it be, so shall it stay,
I will arbitrarily search for the light of day,
i honor perseverance, and my vigil stays,
As I seek, need and want, the light of day.