The pavement is full of spurious persons,
Training each other to pretend they're eclectic,
Using differences to assert the vilification of mankind.

Cross from them stands the truth,
Perspicaciously watching
The hedonists
Be not heedful,
Listening to their speeches full of trifling, inconsequential consequences.

A furtive plan snakes from the mouth to the ears of the truth,
Manipulating it to bolster the lies.

The belief that everyone deserves rights
Akin, alike, homogeneous, to the human nextto him,
Is brought down with the laud, the praise, the inception of the end.

Lying in this bed I (insistently) made,
I find anything but satisfaction.
(Let alone...
                                      comfort.)
Excavate­d artifacts encircle
My desolate frame,
Asking inescapable questions
Of a hard-fought,
Though fateful battle.
Haze begins to ^^clear^^.
Pigments melding to restore a
Grander painting...:
~NothingButAnswers.~
too little.
                 ...too late.

I had lost sight
Of the all the magic that was you and I.
Lost track
Of the time we ~{infused}~ with beauty.
Lost memories
Of moments that molded my mind,
My heart, my soul...
Moved                                                    ­   further
From my home             nextto                              yours.
Wondering & Wandering,
Initiating dark internal wars.
I>>lost                                  << you
in the crossfire and haze of doubt.
I lost [yourhand] within ]mine[
The moment I trifled with that
Reckless piece of weaponry.
Your face slowly disa| |ppe| |ar| |e| |d
From my sky.
Constellations forsook your name.
Nevertheless,
I could only look (vv)down(vv)
At the carnage I was conducting.
Blinders obscuring my ||every option||...
[[no]thing]
but
.endings.
My world was deficient
In beauty and splendor;
Void of love, light, and words like “forever”.
And                            [.you.]
Just standing there.
Forlorn.
In the                [        ]     center [               ] of my battlefield
Between           [logic]      and    [emotion],
Palms open to the heavens,
With only questions
still gone                     unanswered.
I,
The Fool,
Not.once to look up,
Fall to my knees
And surrender my hands to your stArs.
Not.once question
Why I picked up that deadly instrument.
Not.once turn my gaze
From misguided mirage.
You were ≥right≥≥there≤≤,
All along.
Trying to make better sense of my riddles.
Trying to hold on to a listless wrist,
Whose pair was waging a worthless war.
I cry, now, (drunkwithsadness,)
For those deprived fingers,
And how they desperately looked
For a hint of life
In my callus clutches.
I cry for the night's frozen wishes,
Fervently howling for my heed.
I cry for The1One
Who stood in the eye of my storm;
Devastated,
      Obliterated,
                           Un /-_-/ [done].

These recurring reminders;
Now all that remains
Of our weathered pages(andpagesand...).
Footnotes tattooed:
Never to forget
How I couldn’t remember
The magic once sculpted
Inamomentof:
- ...forever...