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Untitled

'I left my dreams in the sand...
On a beach, named Weirs
With a plight of distaste...
...and, one more demon for each freckle on Her face'

The smoke cleared between my eyes
I wrestled with each plagued notion of solace
My indifference indentured every passing second--
Here, I am the only fool

There is no place to flee from this silence
The past is all that speaks
Reflection is Epimethius' fool:
I am staggering to relieve all which haunts me

This callous heart of stone defeats me
I deceive my own endeavors
These two eyes have seen far too much
As they fall back into their defense...

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things