A Crime of Apathy

Wallowing
Within placid
Half-hearted stanzas

The unsparing void
Where I’ve stranded my thoughts
To marinade in squalor
Callous, ragged, and unkempt

Time draws breath
Desperately
Tussling with panic
In its slow, horrid demise

It withers at the hands
Of titanic reveries
Coiling the windpipe
And awaiting its final tremor

When all is motionless
Frayed and silent
By my heinous crimes of apathy

The earth will turn
In prosperous hands
As I trail unheeded
Through their proud
Diverging ranks

From Bloodshot Eyes

 
Like the passionate stream
Of walled in anguish
Through the fractures
Of bloodshot eyes

My words fall cold
Upon deathly pavement
Callous, dreary, and mute

These endless roads
Of solemn grey
Shall court my soul to ruin

To be swallowed whole
By a storm drain’s thirst
And leveled
Beneath the might of seclusion

The grief I hold
Falls unworthy
Of the hopeful eyes
They yearn for

For the Greater Fable

 
They are black lines
Lumbering
Toward certain oblivion

Unaware of their purpose
Of the truth they bear
Within their every morsel

They march onward
Driven
By the edge
Of a madman’s quill

Sewing shut
The greater fable
Laboring, for the close
Of worlds carefully spun

Black lines
Cannot waver
If steady hands
Lead them on

My Cherished Labor

 
Into the folds
Of my daily gracious labor
I fall gleefully
Cleansed of discontent

Marooned to my affairs
Amidst surging tides of black
The earth softly withers
So thoughts may stream unbound

Yet everything
Falls to shambles
With the greatest ease

As waning slabs
Swallowed whole
By the rude bustling
Of consciousness

Farewell
To these brittle reveries
May your transient wonders
Meet me once again