Face Down Silhouettes

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 our mangled bones

Reeling Through Indifference

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
The further
I relive and reel

At Home Among the Waves

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 destiny

Where home
Is certain to prevail
In each backtracking heart
In every limb
Plagued with wanderlust

Stalled Before Uncertainty

My limbs
Have reached
Their fraying end

Within their prime
In the glorious
Midst of endeavor

My entirety stalls
Inside these humble treads
In the tarnished hulls
My feet have christened home

The hunger I kept
Has softly perished
At exhaustion’s, devilish whim

With a hollow heart
I stand in place
Immobile
Unwilling to budge

The hour of endeavor
Now free-falls in silence
Wielded by reverence
Bound
For the frigid unknown

The Fears We Sow

They were earthbound
In blinding streaks
With murderous screams
Which burdened, each soul with unrest

War proudly proclaimed
Its savage hunger
To savor the young
And their fast withering hopes

They held true
To a ceaseless dream
To drench the earth
In their auburn fury

Fear raged
Alongside the ever-stoic blaze
Loyal, to their fiendish quest
To breed slaughter, ruin, and strife

The Guilt of Wasted Days

Each day I render hollow
Is swift to beckon
To flood my eyes with remorse

Each hour I set adrift
Returns to me, sorrowfully
Brandishing, the dead of night

To cry
“What might have been”
To plague my thoughts
With the ghostly urges I’ve squandered

Drowsing brings
The certain doom of insomnia
And I must bid farewell
To the tranquil sway of dreams

Vermin

I’ve become vermin
Side-swept by a jealous wind
The unheeded washout
Trudging chest deep
In the mire of his thick self-loathing

I am the roving smokestack
The ever-looming havoc
Billowing
His depraved songs of anguish

My words yield ruin
For scouring souls
Exuberant
And stout with luxury

They peer deep within
Ever-vigilant of turmoil
Yearning to savor
Its noxious fumes

They peer inside
To uncover barren fields
Dry and brittle offerings
For the curious
Strewn far and wide

The Scourge of Young Harmonies

Melodic apathy
Slips drearily inside of my ears
Stirring havoc
With its ominous deathly drone
Its piercing, juvenile howl

My thoughts exclaim
With the same fervor of agony
Driven to fray at the seams
To disband in the murderous
Palms of angst

My adolescent heart
Is fated to crumble
Beneath current trials
Lofty, and devoid of forgiveness

I’ll falter from within
As young harmonies plague my skull
Fuming into the present
With each final word
I sorrowfully expunge

The Few Morsels I Spare

Before swarms
Of scouring eyes
I am viciously plucked apart

Left to flounder
Eternally winded
With the few morsels I spare

My voice is hollow
Devoid of passion
Plundered to death
By each day hastily spent

Minced flesh
Is all that remains
Souring in the rays
For wayward travelers to reap