Window storm
Refraction of opal hair
Gatherings of a salvaged flock
Incomprehensible
A series of melted bruises
Final lap of my somnolence
Short of my hands around your throat
You may promise nothing
Stop us

Impossibly transporting desperation
We skip to a deafening consumption
Complex sirens
Photo sterilization
Hysterics
Paranoia
Grief without repentance
More of your witnessed erosion

A chamber promise nothing less
Pre-screened destiny
This is how the night begins
We slip inside our seventh skins
One minute and thirty-nine seconds
On short circuit

The waiting
And the darkness therein
Bending of lights
As I stood in awe
Of the architecture of flames burnt
So lovely
The ghosts within those walls
Whole again with dream-like motion
At once
Sitting on a boat outside the city
Seemingly limitless
Staring into that great abyss
Always searching
Always waiting
For you to find me
Shaking in the misty morning sunrise
To return from the sun being dipped
Gone
And if I find you
Take my hand
Stroll the dimly lit corners of this city
Please know that fear cannot touch us
And walk into tomorrow
As the same day

I still can't say you've recovered
I still can't say you've died

The most unholy of nights
A hibernation from servitude
Ghostly
Grey
Illuminated
You send him to decrease the pain within

Still to be seen
Awakening a deceased compromise
Mirrored prey
Driven by enveloped creation
Fever consummation
Visions of your childhood home underwater