deepundergroundpoetry.com
...FROM PATTERN TO VACUITY, ON CRESTFALLEN WINDS
I stray again
To meet my end
Jaws locked by yearning
A maddening pace
To nearly escape
But I am still too near
I dare to question why
And the night falls to gird me
Yet another moth
Devoured by addiction
A bleak portrait hung
In fires of redemption
If ever I could...
I take shallow breaths
Endure the spite of the rain
It is dark here, liquid arms
To carry me to my rest
Stayed long for words to sing
To lust for the nails you bring
This perdition would ease the pain
A final Autumn traced the grave
White noise wreath
Spiraling 'round my sight
A lone child, a mark to bear
To see me standing there
A rose bequeathed
By morning grief
I am beckoned, to measure my worth
And cursed by those who remain
Their subconscious laments
I hear them all
Guide the way
Brief, the woods are silent
Out from your smoldering wake
Into waters of jaded thought
Reflecting what was once halcyon
No words to say
None could exist
In the asphyxiating cold
The void I cannot resist
A feather in my palm
To show me why
As I fall inside
'Awoke to stars in the daylight
They disorient as I reach for them
Only to find that they avoid my grasp'
And morning would leave me with ire
What escapes in my dreams, taunts my gaze
Every day that I wither in yours
I see you
Figure of death
Behind me
A moment I sent
A moment was returned
And I drop my eyes
To the blood on my lifeless hands
Lost to the concert of the maelstrom
My spiral is forever down
Beyond any hope
Possess me
I am yours to claim
'Feet left no trails
Swept away by the years
Those eyes existed only in mind
Black sclera, penetrating fear
With a comforting smile
I have missed you so...'
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