The Straightest Blade

trembling t'wards dawn's path today anorexic pale horizons lay starved of light, of hope sans by your leave or come - I cried, i sighed 'oh.. stay with me please.. please.. pleas .. hold my emptiness' pale yellow sheets became worn grey presumption rinsed of five o'clock - an' rain tapped impatient fingers 'pon the glass of this unlovely lonely world - frayed, dismayed ere sun hung kaleidoscopic dun in space there's a sense of do or die do we colour thoughts to match the day.to.day mis-harmony an' make sweet music in the mind? methinks there's too much out of focus out of everything.. 'tis all a mystery to me when praise turns back on favour in the viewer's lens whilst retribution earns reward am losing the here and where and there.. losing the straightest path you've ever drawn see.. blade sharp it is unbeautiful though to the nth degree - 'that figures', muses mathematician playing tunes 'pon acoustic ancient abacus - dementia determined by gnarled digits ruled by graphics all phrased by dull already dead modernity rapt in unsubtle sublimity - smiling.. blind to the tasteless tug of where to leave before arrival, day fadea into a pit of anxiety - a hole in the space of where once lived a welcome beam to those destined to crash the rocks an' finish as I've become lost in the now and then.. again