The nights are kind
For they let me drift off
Into a deep slumber
In pitiless daylight
I ponder on the not happened yet

The flood of thought
Deadens my soul
Envy taints it
I Linger in the shadows
Perpetuating the stain
Of my ascendants
Volition is an illusion

The silence of my own silence
savagely cuts like a warrior’s machete
Dismembering the remnants
of my authentic self
The design of my misfortune
Was perfectly orchestrated by the ingenuity of diablo

Distress inhabits the catacombs of my mind
Strangling on the lasso of consequence
Perpetually atoning for unknown sins
From another lifetime.

Thunderous footsteps of wolves
Gathering at my feet
Nourish my fear
The demons of recent past are screeching
Outside my door

That which plagues, devours
The blood I lost grew cold
As have I.