When the livable earth
Has cast it’s die,
And our fiat currency
Has buried us
In it’s meaningless fantasy,
Will what’s left behind
Be enough?

In crumbling tomes of old, forgotten by light,
I read the words that time sought to blight.
The profane crawls like fire through my soul,
Yet still, I search—for what
can’t be whole.
The stars are wrong; they flicker, tremble with dread,
And something stirs beneath the shifting tides.
No hallowed man can see what I have seen,
Yet still, the visions claw and tear
at me.
The stars—they scream of what must never be,
And in the deep, the whispered names break free.
In fathomless depths, a dreaming city lies,
Where gods of old prepare to
twist the
sky.

The memory of
that night on
the pier, when
we scrawled our
names onto the floor
with a pocketknife,
and dreamed of when
we might show
our children,
but the children we
never had will
never know,
and the scratches
on the wood will
fade, stepped on
by countless people
who will never know of
our love.

My veins are drawn taut
Fishing line beneath my skin
I extend outwards.

Silent street lights,
Like galaxies in fields of black
The night watchers fight
But dark fights back
Each tentative flicker of life
Here against long odds
Convinced that their strife
Is the will of the Gods

In the garden, we drank cherry wine—  
it was summer, but already the world was burning
You said love could outlast history,  
could outlast the soil we buried our dead in
But even then, your hand trembled in mine,  
as if holding on was a kind of politics  

You, my lover, spoke of revolution  
like it was a season that would never end
And yet, beneath the vines, beneath the sun,  
I could see the rot setting in—  
even sweetness grows bitter in time,  
even love turns sour with too much hope

What remains is the taste of fruit on my tongue,  
as the world smolders, as you fade  
into the distance of what we cannot save

What am I, what's the meaning of me,
I asked the stars by the silent sea,
Am I but dust in an endless flow,
A fleeting breath where no winds blow?

In the mirror, time unraveled thin,
A face I know, yet never begin,
Am I the ripple or am I the stone?
Forever seeking, forever alone