All Life, No Life

I see quite cryptically
Through stained-glass eyes
They engulf the soul grey
"How many hits do you take?
Before you lay thy pen dry?"
None I say, perhaps they view blackened eye's
All I can say for certain is I am succumbed;
paradoxical raging storm driven blood-lights
Interposed in an enormous hint of everything


Clocks work against the hand-
Suffer they a lighter fate
I walked a mile through tunnels
I hardly breathed at all



It is the shallow, hollow self-
Once wrung dry
That captivates itself to satisfy its longing
A road of circular existence, bridging flower and a fly
I can't expect much, it is the very defiance of belonging
Layering a brick wall of cigarette smoke tempting fate
And looking at faith, faith into me
Faith upon me, faith all enduring
Faith through you, through me
Fate defiling a much saturated ground
Deserving better, yet it stays singing



And fate of  a man of his own fate
One unwilling in compromise
One disturbing the nurturing of self
One flying as a deranged-blind bird-
He'd dig a hole in hell attempting to save-
The smallest shard of pride
And follow a fallacy of mirror intent
Lest the world be cast asunder in him
He rests on empty eye's
Leaving a longing silhouette
Faith I implore you, see sight fine
Empty my hands so I may have mine
Never endeavor I in such a stagnant place-
Wherein no color has graced.