The soft and unwilling sigh
Forges inside empty fires
Too long these hours beat anvils
In my treacherous heart
Too many unrequited hours
Pass inside each beat
And treacherous now
Hacks at each
And so the traitor
I used to call my heart
Just does not
But meanders homeless
And will not rest within my ribs
But bend the wrought cage-ed
It to long has lived
With out you
Why does everything seem so void
When each movement
Seems hung on a lament of time
Passing between two dimensions
Without the slightest intoxication
It is a deadness longing
To escape itself from my life
Too many unrequited hours
Pass inside each beat
And treacherous now
Hacks at each
Deepening sadness plucks at strings
With such a foreign language
In a haunting melody
Its rhythm a slow science of unshed tears
Betrays my voice
With its inanimate cry
And distraction to
Lingers on nothing
This vacant stare
Cannot hinge upon anything
Such is the treachery
Of uselessness
The soft and unwilling sigh
Forgets inside empty fires
Too long these days beat anvils
In the traitorous designs of my heart
A blacksmith hammers
The heated iron
But lays dead in passion
And cannot sit
Not even for a minute
On all the obsession
That melts away
In the arc-light of my finger tip
Submission Name: Traitors Forge
