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.