Reflective suffering,
all so meaningless.
Life's but a reminder,
of how much it hurts.

In the sea of aged descension,
debauchery of tortoises and sea horses,
afloat bottoms up.

With fleeting corals,
wilted they wane,
a familiar millet stops by.

Seeping ashes I breathe in,
treacherous flames I shan’t squelch,
left nothing but void to differ the abyss
from an unfathomable surface.

Tidal deluge washes away.
Deprive me of thy momentum,
for I no longer swim.

Beneath a turned stone,
you see us scatter.

In the realm of lights-outs and pitch-blacks,
a borough infested, now coloured hazel
and cast into the obscure.
A new world turned inside-out,
a haven upside-down.

We retreat from collision and of collapse
as our dividing landscapes betray us,
rid of light yet chasing the shadow.
In mud, we bathe;
upon another, we climb.

Crumbling sounds shiver us from within
as declining space starts to suffocate.
Though, weep not for I’m but contagious.
Deluded and misconfigured,
fleeting repellents, in need of contamination.

Colour, colour.
The end I see through colours.

A journey awaits ahead of us. Set sails, for the unknown. For it’s a long road, not rid of its obstacles. Songs of joy comes with tears of sorrow, always inclusive. Here’s hoping for lasting moments. Don’t let yourself down. Think of these, as you fall forward in time, into a leap of faith.

Swelling face, which sees no light,
endless pits, forever descendant.
Caught your knife, skin of thorn,
pierced by arrows, yet love’s lost.