This niche I’ve carved
Has swindled my better parts
Robed in my morbid thoughts
Poor, degenerate and foul

There is only strife to speak of
Done away with timid hillsides
No more grandiose ocean tides
Stocked with riches and dormant mystery

The festering carcass
Of every war ravaged tale
The jagged and hollow structures
Brimmed with smoke and flame
Are caricatures
Of my mournful and tainted self

Lazy days
Are squandered shoveling
Carving deeper within
Until all weight
And substance is blemished and marred

The hours i prevail
Above strewn devastation
Only last
For as long as anguish permits
For as long as i dare
To implore, climb and aspire