Friday, March 1, 2013


I had a scribbled
scrawled scratch lifeless on some
paper that's lost its meaning
in the lines of nothing perpetually
undefined. It's a cause for madness
a breach into the eternal transference
of void to reality
a clock image for my brain--a frozen
static thought--staring into
the eyes that
gave it life--but no hope
in naming it--with no name
no function, no guard, nor power,
it's existence traveled  in an
after-belief sepulchre ignored,

I am as forgotten
as it will be,
I have played god and
failed, lacking truth,

I have left the hands ticking
ticking ticking ticking, weakness--
ruling eons ending life--I have
no reason to rejoice or cry,

This sad shred crumbled in
a thousand years out of loneliness,
I yearn to see it buried

I will raise a blank tombstone
over its grave
and burn a history of roses.

No comments:

Post a Comment