A world held weary with
the fictitious turning of falls failed harvest.
Reasons gone awry without an inkling as to
why with unknown tolls taken.
The vast endlessness vanquished
of once radiant rolling hills and plains pale
in comparison plowed under the fields that
sang in chorus of glorious verse
now wept with the willows.
The imprisoned flower placed limp
and twisted in mine hand as I search painfully
through the sorrow for who I am
in this appalling place.
The lone lady in lace is drifting
in time in search of grace, who once reigned
with beauty now floating in space though the tombstones
of memories misplaced , reaping of reality
having been dug by dire intentions.
Her expression glared of a
contentious reflection given to
any who dared look
upon her decadence.
Life no longer hers to claim for
Herod hath taken hatred's seat at meat.
I being entombed in the ventricle of chambers enticed
through hot lust's waters in an instant began to rise,
locking loss inside, swallowing all in sadness.
Desire drowning broken promises
and pain casting asunder sin,
to be free once again.
