This horror called Trail to Recognition

My perception fades
And in the darkness  
A sound  
Like the cry of the withering  
  
With careful place of soul to heap  
I carry my heart    
To what I fear may break it  
   
I envision....  
come hallowed grounds    
And the bodies that lie there  
in mass and lump  
fresh from hangman's noose  
   
Their penalty's might have been mine  
if I had had the nerve to reach them  
   
in my haze  
And a mighty aspiration called indifference    
My gaze had I diverted skillfully  
With enough success that i did not even recognise their cause  
   
I pray with soulless conjuring    
For their redemption    
And for my own  
Unwilling to own this duality  
   
For self and pardoning  
And only just..  ..  
   
I stitch a blindfold  
Of crushed red velvet    
And monogrammed on it a J  
In the prettiest blue  
   
The color of the sky    
Nowhere to be seen  
in all this midnight and black  
   
But I have loved this track  
it has covered me discreetly    
Like a clandestine lover    
I have run to meet it  
   
now this cry through the fog  
My awareness shocked to submission  
   
And my own body I have not touched  
in such a long...  
long time  
tremors....  
My knuckles streaked    
In reds through white and terrors grip  
   
My God relieve me  
And my soul what have I done?    
The cry...  
It is an echo  
It is my own and I feel it so deeply  
   
Like the scarecrow  
And the post he sits  
I feel I might slide right off of myself