Barren as an eroding, derelict hut,
Stolid as a slumbering mole,
With foggy eyes I gaze within,
At the destruction of my irredeemable, beastly soul.
Clarity has not settled in me for an eternity,
Contentment has left me standing solitary and bereft,
The guiding staff of rationality has long not berated me,
And my battered conscience silenced and stifled has been left.
Enter here, shamelessness, rancor, and spite,
Warm yourselves by the smoldering ashes of this defiled heart,
Complete the work of delusion, and its partner, despair,
Witness with apathy as the remaining shards of goodness
from my being depart.
May 21, 2017
May 21, 2017 at 12:00 PM UTC
Barren as an eroding, derelict hut,
Stolid as a slumbering mole,
With foggy eyes I gaze within,
At the destruction of my irredeemable, beastly soul.
Clarity has not settled in me for an eternity,
Contentment has left me standing solitary and bereft,
The guiding staff of rationality has long not berated me,
And my battered conscience silenced and stifled has been left.
Enter here, shamelessness, rancor, and spite,
Warm yourselves by the smoldering ashes of this defiled heart,
Complete the work of delusion, and its partner, despair,
Witness with apathy as the remaining shards of goodness
from my being depart.
© Forrest Treelore
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