*

death becomes first nature

blanket ash
when
dead dreams
fall prey
to
the
black
heart
lying
empty
no praise
for the weary
teary eyed fool
who
buys
the
box of blues
worn out shoes

i walk
barefoot
in blistering
sunlight
wishing
to burn
this fright
from my stage
they take
such delight
in seeing
my dead ash
sprite
as
a
once
promising dream
a burned
blackened heart
filled to the seams
with empty
dead dreams

a cowboy scheme
a liar's theme
i
don't
deny
i tried
to live
out this
part
of life

i impart
from
here
i got
the wrong
scene
right

only to
sink
in
my
own
sea
of
false
dreams
gone
wrong

a burden
of bastards
who hold
the rose
as if
it will
unfold
upon
me

i want
to burn
my body
into
a
million
snowflake
blackness
float
through
the air
unattacked
and let
the masses
eat me
as
they
have
created
my burden
with
this worldly
urge
to disarm
my heart
betrayed
and
lay down
the arms
and
fry
myself
into
silence
forever
surrender
to the dust
that buffs
up
the
once
pretty face
that belonged
to a child
who had a heart
that mattered
to someone
somewhere
in a time
when there
was a home
to go to
where the
patter
of rain
seemed
to matter
to
even
the bird


the worms
go
too
the hole
where
the prophecy
beholds
the darkness
bestowed
upon
my heart
when
they parted
ways
with
the long
days
of summer's
doom

a lie
even the fly
can't figure
out how
to stop
from dying
in the fall

of the
dream
lost
in
a
sea
of
blood

even
the moon
couldn't
hush
the great
flood
to become
the mud
i've dug
my grave
in

burn the ash
save the gun
bury
the mother
who stole
the rug
from
the
wrong
man

i declare war
on self
pity not
the
emptiness
left
in the dark
where the cries
are undisurbed
never heard
by the man
upstairs
who no
longer cares
who weeps
and
who willows
and bends
with each
floating pillow
a bird's feather
floating
in dead air

black
doom
teathered
feathered
a freakshow
looms
ahead
in the
false
lighting
of the stars
each night
we wait
for the drop
of a single
hope
a drip
a scope
an
unwoven
loom
where
nothing
blooms
but
the doom
drops
down
in the
sewage
left
behind
by
the
savage
unkind
man

steal the finger
watch them linger
around
the
circle of fire
that engulfs
the black soul
where
the burial ground
sows old corn
rows of poppy fields
where
i can lay
down my shadow
and feel
a sharpness
where the spirit
leaves the soul
departs
in bit part
unglory

a lost art
found
all too easy
in death

marry me
dear fairy
and save me
from this sin
i'm in knee deep
my ankle
is
frozen
dark
lake
beholding
a false
image
at
first glance
silence
only golden
when noone
can hear
the bird
calling
the
darkest hour
when the flower
begins to bloom
monumental
moments
of solidarity
between
the dark sword
and the word
holier
than
the soul
can stand
to hear
in great fear
i hasten
my own death
in action
i react
to
everyone
who tries
to attack me
we all die
in the circle
where the bell
rings
in silent dreams
who shall hear it?
but you and me
who listen
every night
on
the
graveyard
shift
someone
forgot
to lift
my life
out
of
the book
of
stolen
moments
sad momentos
of
unglorified
undignified
reactive
chaotic
blame

swollen
sides
bursting
with troubled
inflamed
maimed
heart
must choose
to die
than live
this
continual
burden of lie
in vanity try
living a lie
that follows
me
like
a lost
broom
from
the
city of doom
that awaits
the dawn
after every
night crawler
has left
the moon's hole

i
too
must go

i've seen enough
i can trust
no
longer
what sight
reflects
off the angle
of my dead eye