Without Form or Grace

Tone deaf
The melodies fall in distress
In their frantic urge
To conceive, to convey

To bring about heartfelt sorrow
A euphoric spell
True praise
And despair

Desperately spawned
Without form or grace
Words fall in torrents
To be butchered and maimed
By solid ground

Each verse
Is static-bound and battered
To be dissolved
In the passing of years

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A Deepening Squalor

Once married to wholesome deeds
When the earth was quaint
Tranquil and fair

But the cyclones fell
And ravaged self-worth
Unearthing
All feral and tasteless desires

Once blissfully married
To a full and serene state of mind
Before the slums
Sprang higher and higher

They were bent to encircle
And cradle the mourned
Enclose them in horror
The refrain of decay

There is only the dusk
And the comfort of drowsing
To a glimmering low
Red-stained and hollow

A Few Brittle Words

Nothing speaks
And time
Rolls hatefully along

On a blood-sopping day
That crawls
Clawing and gasping
In fear

Nothing can preach
As shadows loom cold
In the high tranquil skies
Over prosperous ground

There is nothing to reap
But a few brittle words
Spat out in short bursts
And fuming of death

A Helpless Grain

Miles ahead
In my acrid
Self-satisfaction
I indulge
Till I’m hollow and bruised

Leagues deep
And miles beyond
I’ll race past them all
To a thunderous collapse

Forevermore I’ll remain
The remarkable scene
The talk of the morrow
An admired demise

Unknowingly
The helpless grain
Circling inferno
On this precious
Uncaring mass

The Respite

A break
Between fits of rage
The mind sparks and sprawls
Gorging upon life

A pause in the labor
A lumbering death
The soul must recall
Its unmerciful path

Until damnation
Drowns out the efforts
And the beauty unfolds
In a race to decay

The devilish calm
Will surely
Breed fires anew

The Ivory Noose

Ivory walls
Is the noose I feed
The home I abhor
Where I writhe and languish

Where I descend
Each stillborn hour
Eternally squandered
And taken by rot

Until the illusions
Rampage through my mind
And I’m far from reach

Disheveled
Disbanded
Overrun

Tired Affections

Carve the epitaph
For I’ve striven all I can
And nothing more can liven
My lukewarm affections

For the empath
Is a fire-bound ghost
He has slipped from my grasp
And left me
Devoid of whit and warmth

Carve the epitaph
For nothing rings true
And bold in these words
My exhaustion is king

Let me sail in retreat
In a church bell’s laboring
Death-bearing song
Into a tragic and merciful ease