Timeth of Day

every inkling inked upon
this parchment which thee followeth
prose composed, of blood t’was forged
in mine own drops of sorrow
still, displayed in erred ways
as though t’were born of naught
the truth beholden to beest told
in moments seldom sought
to some seemeth incessant
streams of trite grandiloquence
though none has’t seen such broken dreams
smite mine own countenance
i’ll not recant if thou wouldst grant
thine audience of heart
through such eyes thou dare not encave
from truths these words impart
and though verbose these thoughts
impose upon thee with intent
so doth convey mine own dismay
allaying consequence
if thou protests, i wilt request
with haste beest on thy way
for i’ve not might, to grant
the likes of thee timeth of day

Breaching Fast the Dark Horizon

divergent blades of earthen skin
stretching to escape their reflection
run the length that given time
will find them in each other’s arms

for in that distance, life becomes them
gaining loss, the cost of knowledge
senses dulled to shine the surface
barely sealing in gray matter

searching for the songs that struck
the core of all desires adopted
haplessly stumbling headfirst
into the unknown symphony

every refrain holds its truth
that only retrospect can tell
present states confuse with purpose
phrases blur to stay the hour

culled amalgam worn to worn
each its own reflection’s mirror
marred by moments etched in stasis
paraphrased by remnants squandered

once; as all that never was
must collide and shape anew
where the paths now come together
time persists as non-existent

passages and wayward exits
bound by universal law
jumbled masses huddled so low
breaching fast the dark horizon


once observed, though set in stone

bears nothing more than what is known

witness to that which shall remain

a silent captive of refrain

left unclaimed from whence was wrought

feigned and framed as though t’was naught

availed victim now put on trial

with guilt transposed of bold denial

the crimson press of waxen seal

behold the toll left unrevealed

responsibility eschewed

the mockery of known truth

Truth Idealized

aromatic petals waft into the mind’s display

sowing memories of life unto the heart’s array

hands that never idle draw upon this weary face

siphoning the spirit, carapace soon turns to waste

thoughts endearing, dwindle like a spindle spiralling on

fraught with fears like kindling tends the tender fire till dawn

helpless to observe the truths impressed upon our flesh

soft and supple, weak and wary, worn under duress

standing on the pillaged past to peer into our fate

captured in reflections to which we cannot relate

poised upon the precipice of poignancy implied

haunted by the visions of our truth idealized


Infinity Still Residing

awaken to the void
vespertine avenues vanish
awash in bittersweet moments
memories of absconded youth
infinity still residing
on the tip of my tongue’s refrain
folding into crumbling worlds
caught between in silent hues
where your warmth imbued the stars
in dreams that beam salvation
falling over limbs of lumber
hapless, bearing fate so sweet

Blissed Apparition 

drowning in broad strokes
of her brush so brash
I stood at the forefront
in backdrops of ash

with each newfound pass
pigments pressing conspired
composing the ocean
of mirth turned to mire

encircled in lunar sands
reticent scorn
obscured by the obelisk
spiraling forth

obstinate breast
of abrasiveness bellows
abundance of hues strewn
adorning her pillow

blissed apparition
of petals impearled
presaging solitude
of two stagnant worlds