Worn down

Before the blast of first light

Fills the room with the fires

I’ve sewn in the dusk

~

The worlds trills are too faint

Within the primal cries

Falling from clouded dreams

All throughout my lost form

Still staggering through the smoke

~

Springs colors are dulled

As I slide through the pulse

And maddening flow

Of each choked boulevard

~

To sew more infernal woes

In the charred black soil

Painting mornings to come

In burning flecks of red