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Self-Indulgent Blues
self-indulgent blues...
my voice is hoarse
from the silence of my relentless screams
my very self rots
in the darkened cave of my misplaced dreams
all of everything that once kept the knotted peace
is now tattered and in pieces
twisting in the howling wind of the futile present
wasting away with each breath that it thirstily seizes
when all is gained yet all seems sour and effortlessly lost
the remnants of each day wind up counting the dreadful cost
of an emptiness embraced and a solitude ushered deep inside
of a lost mind and a wandering soul
aimlessly stumbling for a place to hide
when thirty eight years seems far too late
to clamber out of this worthless state
and when another day seems entangled in the frayed strands of pitiless fate
it reduces the sum of all that has been lived
to a soiled emotionless moment of deadened grace
while the wandering soul drifts further away
from ports of call into emptier space
where will all this dock if ever at all
the flailing untethered emotions diving as they keel over and fall
down into the crevasse of nothingness in the end
breaking and shattering further
all that now has become impossible to mend
while the lunatic within refuses to bend
like a wound that festers ever on and on
becoming fruitless to tend
so much effort to churn out such pitiful verse and pathetic rhyme
worth nothing at all
today, tomorrow
or in a month's time
so as this pen is laid down tonight
it is surrendered gladly
for i'm far too fatigued to fight...
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