The Bare Worlds I Conjure

I stand no chance
Before their tremendous roar
The ongoing swell
Of their full and lively words

All I have
Are the rail-thin
Fables of old

The bare worlds I conjure
From this cold
And cavernous mind


The True Moniker of Fear

Fair and pleasant skies
Were the first to greet
My opening glances

The day was kind
A mute and lumbering colossus
A friend, awaiting patiently
For my first steps to fall

My limbs
Were weighed down with caution
A reluctance I’ve cradled
In the fury of bygone years

Through lost whirlwinds
Where I’ve learned
The true moniker of fear

It scars the presents
The fresh faces
Of friend and foe alike

This day
Was warm and forthcoming
Bereft of the shadows
That ensnare the hostiles I deplore

These  precious hours
Are far too few
Among the greater sprawl
Of the festering, ever-turbulent dark

Truth-Bearing Fury

The skies tremor
Above her primal disdain
As her cries rage from below
Deafening, magnificent, yet vile

Her long imprisoned anguish
Takes flight from her fatigued
And battered voice

With shrill clarity
That draws complacent ears
To witness the climb
Of her truth-bearing fury

She has fully crumbled
Beneath, her immense disdain
Under mountains, the eons of neglect
Towering with each year
So casually set adrift

She convenes
With her inner bedlam
Propelling her angst
Into the heavens
For all wayward souls to reap

The Marauding Winter

I am hardly hopeful
In winter’s deathly embrace
Her stern unsparing frame
Drains away my cherished resolve

Each gust
Is a foul and thieving ghoul
Plagued, with fiendish want

The few fading sparks I harbor
The lights that slave
To keep my inner fervor awake

I am
Hardly hopeful
Barely clutching
To my last shred
Of proudly hoist defiance

Refuge of Denial

A swill of denial
Lulls me
Calms me
Into a faithful slumber

Into the fog-shroud mire
Of a deep and guiltless sleep
Where I stride on heartily
In the armor of feigned confidence

Undeterred by the treachery
Of the brittle
And fast receding ground

Denial runs warm
For the hold of my patient girth
Yearning, to plume triumphantly
To flood my skull
With its thick and beautiful distortion

As the days roll on
As truth transpires
Without my useless treads

On the Verge of Truth

His words were marooned
To the highest peak
Lurching for the edge
Wavering and uncertain

So he shied away
From the truth he yearned to spawn
From the Goliath
Bellowing deep within
Raging, and thrashing to be freed

His entire world stalled
As he stood pondering before the morrow
Straining, defiantly
Against its savage pull

The youth was doomed to remain
Teetering, for the rest of his days
Braving each lonely wisp
That dared to drive him forth

Time perished gracefully
Alongside his colossal words
Never knowing rejection’s wrath
Nor the warm coils of acceptance

The Fortune I Shamelessly Covet

Within her scarlet harmonies
I joyfully concede
And languish
Uprooted from distress

For her sweltering verse
Is the fortune
I shamelessly covet

Its passion swarms
My awe-stricken thoughts

Plagued forever more
I mustn’t speak
And drown the melody
Of her tame and solemn song

Once more
Remains at the edge of my tongue
As the anthem fades
Gracefully, tired, and fulfilled

Traveling Shades of Black

I’d rather flock within
To softly perish
Of my own accord

Where the outer madness
Cannot reach
Or so I strive to believe

As the world dons
Its timeless shade of black
And peril wafts
With the traveling ashes

I’ll withdraw
To decay from within
Unfazed by the horror
Or so I yearn to believe

Live On

Speak fearlessly
With every ounce of your fury
To thoroughly shed grief
To condemn the true transgressors

Truthful words held
Mustn’t die

Let them flourish
Among the greater swarm
Of newly unsheathed anguish

For the bereaved
For the voices
Hastily squandered

Never waver
Never tread lightly in verse
Give out your sorrow
The rage, the affection
You’ve dammed for far too long

With Fellow Forgotten Trials

Toppling over
In bountiful affection
My faults are devoured
By the warm and tranquil deep

My flying slows
To a thoughtful trudge
Savoring, every fine detail
Of a kind and charitable romance

Too soon I am
Clamoring for wind
As I inch for the slums below

Where I’ll dwell
A conquered hardship
A mere hindrance
In the grand and treacherous endeavor

All along
Grief coils my dormant form

As I drift
With fellow forgotten trials
For the glimmering furnace
In the hull of juvenile hearts