With morbid
Free-falling ease
I’d descend

To be firmly coddled
In the swell
Of homegrown disorder

In want
For my bones
To meet their fitting end

As jagged ruin
Protruding
From the soils I’ve earned

To spare only
An internal scream
With lustful
Sickening zeal

Brought about
By the loom of silence
The eternal promise
Of a home
In the ever-roving dust