Dawn of Delirium

Freedom ~ an inked kingdom of macabre mirrors, a vermiform lie veiling the vehement suffering amidst serpent estuaries, surging within strangled skin, as if I am the living sin, jinxed by the crawling creatures in the lamented labyrinth of deceitful dreams, inhaling venomous vapors rising from the cursed creeks that failed to caress the brittle bones of delirious dawn, where the nocturnal owl sits, phasing stellar phantoms on tattered twigs, oblivious to the piercing pain I breathe, as poetry feels like a somatic hallucination, a reflection of the phoenix crescent, a dialect the naive can never comprehend, the voice of truth, the jaded outline of mortality, can never interpret~ as the last sacred light of twilight r e m a i n s unmarked and lost to the Earth. O wicked wind beneath the crestfallen wings of cruising constellations, will this piece of paper save me from the maleficent violets in the spitfire blaze of stigmatized stars? I am stuck ~ hell-bound, troubled placing my tongue on Freyja’s chalice of tears, for I feel oblivion closer than death, I taste the flames of Tartarus, I dance with demons, I sing to the malevolent moon, I see in distorted dimensions. But would the ignorant know I hear beyond what’s spoken, in search of Eden and love? I give gratitude to your God, but the veiled care not~ this is beyond the making of a self-forged inferno. I am the harbinger of harmony, my soul aches to paint your scarlet spheres in butterfly bliss, praying in secret that the deviant daggers in my spine would blossom into russet roses, their petals ~ like an elixir to my paranoid psyche, paralyzed in the catacomb chaos of insanity, as the scorpion Sun k i s s e s me one more time with sweetened poison. While you, the spectators of this twisted spectacle, condemn my insomniac aura to stain the essence of my existence with condescending colors, unaware that introspection is a powerful weapon~ all blood is blue, and we breathe hypocrisy scrutinizing the unknown....