Corroding at the essence of what had been,
leaves wilted scorched by the white.
It was but a far away moment now colliding
upon our onyx reality.

No thought of that which echoed in the distance
a difference to our perspective. but now absorbing
all that was delicate obsidian, eviscerating all
substance now bleached from known existence.

All we were was eroding away, flowers blossomed
but wilted upon the sight above, diluted our shadows
were not as they were. All that was will soon be but a
blank slate no longer the beauty that was obscurity.

A smouldering apparition lingered on
his hand, it sang a song of torment
of souls devoured screaming out.

Melodies of convulsions lingered within
his surroundings, High Priests did
Sculpture upon his being, and he bled.

Deep did they desecrate his flesh, bleeding
any stagnant purity out. He gazed upon their
doing and listened that which perched on himself.

No matinee today
from my blackbird,
the robin too, is off sick
and the rain is so insistent,
that the shoosh of the wind
in the birch tree is just a whisper.

On days like this,
lonely people in lonely lives
give over and give up;
here in this gun free country
the gas oven, the dressing gown cord
and stored up sleeping pills,
are enough and enable the tired
to leave without saying goodbye.

The dead do not read obituaries,
are not here to unravel confusions,
to answer the question. Why?
to answer the question. Why?
to answer the question. Why?

Now there is one less setting at table
a bedroom door stays shut and
in the bathroom
the toothbrush goes dry in the mug.
The clean shirts at the dry cleaners
are picked up and  on their hangers
with the new heeled shoes in their bag
are fresh goods for the charity shop.

And in this big city village
no one cares
no one really cares

It lingered in the twilight expanses beneath where I rest my soul and head,I heard its mumblings, incoherent not upon my ears was either understood.

Clinging to the expanse of what was underneath,  it was a warm night
but beneath was breath chilled and frigid that my hair stood on end.
I saw its exhalation from form to nothingness.

My mirror in the corner I would swift fully gaze, but all I saw
was darkness and those eyes that followed me across the bed.
Like a cobra it did gaze upon my movement hypnotic in essence.

Wanton curiosity of a mind so young, a finger, a thumb, a hand now I wave under the bed. But nothing heeds my gesture under my creaking mattress i wave in oblivion by nothing signals back.

I rest my weary eyes, then slumber to those places where my innocence does dramatize the actions of the day. but while the blinds are closed it reaches from its depths, it knows i now slumber its time to play.

I walk on the ice skating as I go, but then my feet are constrained and as the moments pass, i am entombed from below to up above, but just before my sight freezes i see a hockey puck, shattered in tears i fall.

Awoken by this moment  gazing upon the floor, there is no darkness
as there was before. Instead there is light, orange in  its glow, it
seem warmer till engulfed in combustion and I awaken once more.

A merry go round of images one as contorted as the former, now I seem to be on a merrygoround of distorted reality. Concluding this is a dream as i moved from one cunvulising moemtn to the next.

I say "No more, as my eyes begin to bleed, as fingers sink deep into the pots. "There is no going home for I am here now till i drain you till your death, I awaken once again to a place I know the best.

But I am indenial as where i rest only faint whispers are heard upon my breath, for this thing that lingers beneath has all but finished its ingestion of my essence as i have only a few ceaseless moments left.

Darkness envelopes me, I'm a prisoner within in a cell, in the middle a bed. A place to rest a weary head, I had fallen prey to that which hungers sleep. For the energy it took now I'm now in tormented death.

On a swing of deadened wood she would
Swing, holding upon these slender ropes of thorn.

Piercing onto flesh, but always held on as
Though to fall, but tears bleed from this motion.

Back and forth, white became red as a head
Slumped forward and motions carried on as hand frim.

This dead wood sat upon a rope of thorns
Motioning the seeping tide  that with each gesture flowed.

Grasping fingers ridged as these swings, each
With heads slumped, bleed a little and swung always evermore .

Did you pen this in a depleted moment
Indiscriminate to your heart waning desire.
Everything I did was for you, our life was
To be a unity of majestic significance.
Over again did I think about those syllables
Greeting my mind in a confused state.
Either I was yours or no one else's,
The tears that fell, like fake snow meaningless
Hearing you understand what we had to do
Every occasion we shared culminated in this
R**eal declaration of love, two shots and our hearts stopped.