Merely a Conquered Life

I am the faint pulse
Lurking in the depths
Of scarred
And tattered flesh

Past downcast eyes
Burdened with fear
I cleave for the open
With a bounty of anguish

I fade into
The day to day patchwork
Where the fortunate beckon
And the timid weave
Unseen

I am
Merely a conquered life
That quietly wanes
Far away
From the turning world

Rationed Words

His silent simmering
Was a beacon
For those adrift

For those who swayed
Upon the currents of dreams
For the far-away travelers
Engulfed, by silent peril

He rationed his words
Through a labyrinth of verse
Through the treacherous bends
Of careless chatter

Inward he dove
Unfazed and quiet
As the watchful hordes
Simmered
In desperate longing

The Fortune of Slow Erosion

Life has its way
Molding and sculpting
My fragile form

I shape-shift
In the passage
Of great calamity

In the joyous swell
Of victory’s
Fleeting refrain

Shall I bask
In the fortune
Of slow erosion
Or be swallowed whole
By a surf of certain decay

Quiet Grief

Cries of boyhood angst
Are free
From my bitten tongue

Yet no truth prevails
No heartache can crawl
From the ruins
Of my war-torn conscience

The toll
Of harbored sorrow
Shall beckon forever more

Never daring to clamor
For the waiting arms
Of the crude and heinous world

Never to draw
The care of roving eyes
That have seen
All of the same

Reverie of Apocalypse

A sudden flash
Tore away at the homely dark
Flooding the hollow void
With a clashing array
Of fire and hues

The canopy of night
Fluttered away
Carried, by a traveling wisp

Revealing
The eternal glimmer
Of ghostly
Constellations

I remained
Far from terrified
As I sailed for the care
Of faultless panorama

The life I knew
Was fully undone
Sinking at peace
Full, with quiet reverence

And I was
To regain my balance
For the tolling fowls
Were at their prime

I was
To gather
My scattered composure

And breathe
At ease
For the day
Was finally drawn

The Plundering Tide

Freight cars rain
Scattering plumes
Rich, with lives well-squandered

As nightfall dwindles
Beneath their endless
Arching cries

There are no sirens
Only a great span of silence
And the plundering tide
Brought forth, by eager hands

Havoc ascends
In murderous clouds
Heaven-bent
For their heinous jobs well-done

As tattered lives
Cleave to vengeance
Simmering with the hatred
Of legions, floundering
Within the waves of grief

For a Torturous Memory

I labor from below
Tunneling
Overwhelmed by night

Where the lights cannot pry
And the silent linger
In the firm clutches of sleep

Dig out!
Is the refrain I hold
The harbored scream
Which fuels my effort

Dig out!
Claims my blistered hands
As they toil in spite
Bloodied and maimed

Home
Is a cherished beacon
Wafting through the ruins
Of a once prosperous mind

A ceaseless memory
That soothes and torments
Never leaving me to waver
Never falling
Out of favor with my thoughts

Ghostly Regrets

Orphaned deeds
Now flood
The hull of my conscience

Storming the gash
As I topple over
Full with remorse
Hopelessly, Overrun

I reclaim the sorrows
I’ve spun and left for dead
In the bountiful silence
Where turmoil, hails supreme

Quietly listing
The dark is to loom
As a vise, crushing
From all around

Father Knows

I cave
A hopeless wretch
As bravery nears
Having conquered
The falling, fading day

Father
He spares few words
As his eyes trace my fear
Disheartened
And burdened with worry

My nerves draw chaos
In the rising fumes of despair
At the swell
Of the morrow’s hatred
Foreseen within, his tired eyes

Father knows
What awaits his feeble son
Fully aware of the carnage
That lingers, quietly simmering

But all questions fade
In the aft of my mind
Dispersed by the fear
He once carried, long ago

“I am afraid”
Would come to pass
In a sudden surge of valor

A Crime of Apathy

Wallowing
Within placid
Half-hearted stanzas

The unsparing void
Where I’ve stranded my thoughts
To marinade in squalor
Callous, ragged, and unkempt

Time draws breath
Desperately
Tussling with panic
In its slow, horrid demise

It withers at the hands
Of titanic reveries
Coiling the windpipe
And awaiting its final tremor

When all is motionless
Frayed and silent
By my heinous crimes of apathy

The earth will turn
In prosperous hands
As I trail unheeded
Through their proud
Diverging ranks