with ethereal hands my subordinate emotions are a mess
reaching for a solid grip out of emptiness...
...insides a blur...
...outside's a test...
obsession fooling words, i had missed
touches of slight emotional relevance
and into this hole i have dug for my dreams
wind me further into hell it seems...
who can hold a candle to what i have missed...
so many days alone, so many nights -- anxious
clouds from the north chase my inner summer moon
and tomorrow i hold onto, growing dumb by afternoon
silence in my head is all i wish
escapism from society -- that skirmishing bitch
to hell with the lot, with every heart they smother
the lot of them, they fall, deeper into awaiting fire... |
Submission Name: Awaiting Fire...
