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Poem

“Wicked Web of Woes” 

Is there a reason
to rhyme when 
lifeless fingers
breathe toxic agony,
whilst disgraced 
quill suffocates
from wildering 
riddles swerving to
the stillness 
of calcified air? 
As today, my heart 
keeps pacing,
searching for a 
symphony of serenity-
amid wayward clemency,
and when the first star 
of the evening sky,
fades and shatters 
upon a celestial canvas 
of colorless dreams.

I feel the sweeping 
wings of salvation, 
resting amidst
clipped faith, 
drifting swiftly towards 
abandoned clarity;
exiled into 
barren fields of
vast polarities, 
where hope collapses 
into an eternal demise, 
tangled within a 
wicked web 
of woeful sagas, 
trapped between 
heavy clouds
of unshed tears, 
beneath the 
crisp cusp of sanity. 

Yet I stand in 
sweltering silence, 
recollecting lost
chronicles of 
who I once was, 
whilst I’m drowning 
in waves of 
vexing numbness, 
screaming into 
the oblivious 
spheres cloaked
in smoky 
arctic haze,
questioning the 
captive chains 
of reality,
in dialects only 
the moon 
can comprehend.

Am I destined 
to be caged
in sinful darkness 
that the 
world fed me,
with sharpened 
knives at 
empty tables,
with faceless 
ghosts of yesterday? 

Perhaps there’s 
still a poem
that can unlock 
the mystery 
to a future that 
thrives with
fruitful orchards,
where rain that 
tastes succulent 
wouldn’t burn 
your flesh,
for even the 
milky-ways would
unravel a realm where 
everything should 
be as it seems.
Vanquishing the 
strings that bind—
daring me to breathe. 

Ink Empress 
Fading Star Silence

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