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May 21
Monochrome strings, fizzled out currents,
Dull thumps, dead thumps, redrum me,
The theatre of my undoing and my banes,
The graveyard of unburied, broken dreams;

The heart was made to feel and Lord, I felt,
The vacuity of a thousand dead suns,
The gravity of a tempered yellow star,
What grows the more you take away?

The grief of the fireflies, burned without the fade,
The oddity of a moonflower for one glorious dusk,
None of this makes sense and neither do I,
Lost in the plot, lost a lot, take out the glock;

The revenants of my wounds have resurfaced,
I slip across it's horizon, overcome by it's strength,
Just me and Lana tonight, let the wildflower burn,
Tomorrow's dusk, I'll still be here.
Moonchild
Written by
Moonchild  Alaska
(Alaska)   
93
   Man
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