Dread Locked

This melancholia rapes me from where I sit, clipping the petals from my bloom
Their intrinsic beauty passes before my bloodshot eyes as they drift like feathers  
Settling gracefully on the splintering and decaying floor
 
They putrefy at my virulent touch    
 
Desolate wings veil my being and sever my earthly tether  
Smothering the altruistic sun and robbing me of its warmth.
If only I could pierce the incessantly beating heart of that which entombs me
Peel myself away from its crystalline structure
And become free from its bitter touch forevermore
 
But I can’t escape that which cosens me into this elaborate cycle of morose existence  
Because it’s an elusive thing, the inspiration for my degradation
And only an absolute understanding could bring its demise.