Tuesday, December 2, 2014

The ending drought of my soul

Feeling the borders of pain in an attempt to stay alive,

pushing the walls of neglect in order to remain silent.



More than dark alibis built up from deep under the surface.

Unable to tear down the thick paint on my face


the cost of dignity, the remains of a shattered illusion

A scar that speaks names in the darkest nights

A protein that feeds the whispers of the melancholic odes

I coast on the days, I pay no respect to the clicking bomb

inside my brain, deep in my despair

I follow my path despite the despicable death waiting at the end

unable to turn back

Sad cracks in my tombstone

Candle void filled with darkness

A pit from life born in the sips of decadent licks

A brain, grotesque in its complexity



into the oblivion of eternal return

An epiphany to self annoyance

A sonnet inspired by sirens in love

An oath inked by the morning dew

A blasphemy in the tongue of a bishop

These, the first and last chapters into pain

carbon dioxide smoked in my blood stream

lack of disbelief,

mock of my own grief

I wait for thee to hold

the last drops of me

in your hands

grasping the ending drought of my soul