A crass whisper…. An eerie breath smoking fanatic words through the pores..
A juggled mass, nerves, susceptible to its own callings..
It’s a prison in there.. Skeletal fiends are proportions of thy heart
All gambling, forging a hide and seek game in that maze..
Some skeletal fiends call you weak and hateful.. some call you raw and demonic..
Who shall you listen.. Whose voice shall you drown..
Or shall thy crawl beneath darkness absorbing every scream..
Each face speaks in thy voice.. each voice a tone shifted from the other.. Yet they are all you..
Living is a beautiful death they say… if you like that kind of painful beauty..
Curtains of black lining.. shielding the harrowing pain of lone survival..
In a foreign land of pure blue sky and chilling winds….burning sun on the plain roads..
Dulled by straight trees.. no man.. none smiling.. none humming words of compassion..
Friends run aloof.. as thou stares ahead ..
Screeching in a crimson howl.. why thou has seen no friends..
Can a life alone here break thy silver gate…
A gate beyond which thy sanity and sanctimonious love ripples..
The heart speaks what the heart knows not..
And the mind mutters atrocities that heart shan’t bear on its porch..
Mind gargles of the worst of friends.. It groans of the loss that ain’t yours to own…
Mind shoves the misogyny in the people’s eyes deep through thy mellow membrane of hope..
It’s a downright creep.. the mind.. a delusional fiend that ought not to live..
But then.. thee lives only there.. in the mind.. alive only there.. in the mind..
Darn the frivolous, the con, thy own mind solidifying death and pain capsulizing thy life..