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The stairwell beckons For my rotten Havoc-shroud bones Drawing me in To its cold And spiraling embrace Downward, I embark Parting ways With certainty and solace As my organs Swell and rupture And I dive beneath The fumes of scorn Through silent jeers I must descend Until my flesh Is mangled to a pulp
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Joyfully I crumble Forever plagued By youthful whims In each fleeting hour I pass With carefree haste I am eternally winded Coiled mercilessly By trivial urges As sultry words Pour fervently Into the womb Of my thoughts How they stir a sick resolve Brewing a cause Of swift satisfaction
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‘Woe is me’ Beckons untrue From these privileged lips From a nest of satisfaction Where the cold Never dares to intrude Yet my cries Are far from withering For they ascend proud And swelled with suffering ‘Woe is me’ Lies dormant On placid ivory Scratched into being By these eager And privileged hands
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I wallow shamefully In stagnant words Unwilling, to pry my limbs From their homes Of squalor and strife I writhe on Defiantly As I sink into a servile night Convening With the merciless cold With the starved and infertile ground My cherished worlds Were always fated To dwell In the binds of fear To feed…
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When I’ve reached A full and impregnable stature The world Shall tremble in dismay As I hope And fiendishly dream Atop My lone sliver of exile My prey of retribution Sparks a greater fear From within For I know It shall not last Once the highest plumes Are forever lost
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Something stirs From inside These thick and dreary walls A soft Unheeded toll From beneath the tatters Of an unkempt hide The useless arc Of dull words Can never delve too deep They’ll never see The mires within That rove And befoul The proudest of hearts
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We were falling Compromised and young Destined to reel Dwindling In the name of good fun The hours all sank In a heedless swan dive For the wormhole of rapture For the allure of chemical disarray Until the day was drawn Setting fire To our face-down silhouettes Until the infernal dawn Had singed away At…
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I’ve reclaimed The watchfulness Of stern and downcast eyes The scores I’ve abandoned Fearfully Ensnared by panic When each shallow breath Was all too much When every lock-step Brought down The lash of exhaustion I’ve reclaimed The scorn of passersby As I weave hopelessly Through the bends and curves Of indifference All mercy Soon defers…
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The fool He rages in his lair Of ink and ivory Untouched By outer whims By each traveling Pestering gust He buries his all Beneath Infertile ground In the unsparing plot Where his passions Shall linger, unfulfilled Disorder is his A gift From his ever-staggering dreams
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The ports of old Never fully forsake them For their loyal harmonies Remain In each wayward soul Thoughts rove And swiftly recover In their sultry Sunbathed embrace Where great endeavors Are to commence And fellowships part For their own distant morrow’s These memories ignite The quiet hearth of valor Propelling the meek To convene, with…
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