my heart in your hand had become ensnared
victimised by this trojan's land
masses evolving
my reality dissolving
as I try to make sense of the unfolding
droplets of memories abound in soft forms
sweet as a fresh nectar fruit torn
from high reaching limbs
the attainment of your salvation ever the more rewarding
when climbing atop assumptions and wading through the swamps of doubt and forewarning
the earth quakes and shakes
rattles it's inhibitions from deep within
spews forth a gully of raging inner turmoil
I surrender to thee
my sacrifice born to an innocent plea
as i fall into myself once more
your fingers have encased me in your possession
a cage of dainty jagged bones
closing around this ever pulsating rhythmic vessel
I am entombed
entwined
enveloped
fusing myself to the insides of rusted debris
the tides can try to wipe everything away that is me
but still I cling
to the harmony of elements
the cage of possibilities and bones
I cling to this doom forsaken land
I now call
home.

there is this stench hanging over me
I can't ignore the smell for much longer
it looks like a shifting dark vibration
ever moving, quaking, reverberating
a collection of excitable flies gathering together to feast
on the entrails of my mind's failed operations
the buzzing gets louder still
almost unbearable to withstand now
it's starting to shoot through my conscience
I can feel the little insects conspiring and mutating as one
a battle lies ahead, waiting to unravel
dormant in the swaying green that surrounds
like a sweet illusion of peace
ready to strike and pounce upon the unassuming pockets
of hope and tranquillity which rest in nearby lagoons
the battle is soon to be underway
I can feel it
lurking on the fringes of my morale
as it begins to intoxicate me
the sour starchiness of tainted dreams
dissolved within ashen clouds
I think
as I allow myself to be consumed
I think
I am beginning to get drunk
on my own complicity.

the limbs of my
character self
are shaking
just about dying
to drop
their socially acceptable moulds
litter the ground
with old habits
and in their places
grow
luscious healthy new sprigs
of enlightened perspective
a resurgence of ideas
death of the old
and outdated roles
a chance for
revitalised spirit selves
to dance upon the graves
of the old norms gone sour
now is the season
she screams
step up mulch away the debris
of your momentous miscalculation
of power
reclaim the roots
that the greedy shifting world
seeks to devour