Disorientation

My distant spirit is dying, disheartened, disintegrating and self deprecating. Defenceless, as hope disappears, emotionally shipwrecked in deep waters, yet to be discovered. In the sadness of sentimental sighs, silence is the sinister sister of separation. Abandoned in an abode of unfairness, my heart shimmers creating a crepuscular crescent, emanating into an emotional eclipse - in splitting darkness I've become invisible. I've lost hope in being found among faded stars and moonless nights. I'm as transparent as an icicle, melting in frozen fields of forgotten forever's. In the deception of dreams, gradually, the roots of grass begin to decay. In misty meadows of manifestation, sanctuary of my subdued supernova soul, slumbers among rotting massacred moths, motionless in a crumbling charcoal cocoon. A slaughtered spirit spawns a suicide of sunshine, as ebony eyes create Cimmerian shadows of smoke. I've been taken hostage in a vault of torment, hoping celestial spheres return soon - but all I can hear is angels screaming. I search for those susurration sounds of homecoming birds of spring, bringing the clarity of velvet sheen skies, floating free like dandelions blowing in the wind, unlocking shackles of sorrow, easing stubborn tones of reasoning - but no serenades can be heard. The season of death is upon us, so I remain disjointed in discomfort, displaying dismay at being disowned - leaving me feeling dizzy in dismal disorientation.