deepundergroundpoetry.com

Forlorn

Hunched over in my indecision to subjugate one from three
I count the shadows running headlong from my empty dreams
Over yonder in the darker circles of my life I espy a glimpse of fortunes long since whispered gone
Empty cups of tea have always favored my old bones

I pick at the scabs and scars of lesser wounds and find absolution in my toiling
Never was there such a sight as tissue writhing in agony
Spent wishes and salty kisses render my flaccid ego wasted
I look upon a blanket of stars that only wink with their dismay
Those bastard oceans far above

Dismantled in my intellect I appease the dusk and hide in rue
A broken soul with none to barter
One from two and three from five
How much longer must I falter?
Thirty-one is but my number
How much more must I suffer?

For death is writ, but I shall see
A darker wisdom pervades me
Long seasons is the sentence
I lay awake in misery
Yet all too tame is my life
An acolyte of blacker meanings
I dredge on in my strife



  
Written by Thedeadinme
Published
Author's Note
Just feeling low as of late. I often ponder strange things and far less have the thought of mind to jot them down.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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