Woe upon knowing
It goes without saying
The solace one feels
As if piously praying
Must sway us from
Wasting away
In our disarray
Wallowing
Following
Death to its
Darkest day
At its doorstep
Bereft
Nothing is left
What a mess
Have I kept
Unexpressed
For too long
Have repressed its inherent
Outspokenness song
And so this is my thing
My belongings
All packed
And unpacked
For the world to see
Living for
High by night
Writing
Serenity