Max, or Not

the hours arouse disillusion

bedraped

upon fraughted remorse

fretful meander

propels its pulse

onward

exacting a will

fit for none

with fury

unfurling

and blusterous breast

the “worst”

would conspire

amid chaos

so tireless

did prove

as a victor unwitting

then felled by a fire

resolute

as sorrow sows

its seed anew

I reap

its savage wander

again

a grievance

rends me

unaware

and spares me

not

its grave

afar from my grasp

was a wisdom

unsound

to have held all

and nothing

at once

and how

I would wince

as its tinsel unwound

wearing wounds

she has yet

to repent

as the son
of a sadist

unsworn servitude
has withered my will

and left me
to brood

for sorrow is certain

through self-sabotage

existence
a sentence
of sordid mirage

the endless hour
unravels

we writhe
under the moor

as earth arrives
unsung in reverie

fateless,
evermore

at once
the sun had risen

through sanity’s remorse

our faces
worn

amidst the arbors

lost
within god’s door

when i cannot
quell this chaos

kittens call
to calm my nerves

droves of prismed clouds pileus

gather in the distant stir

auric airs of heirs ailuric

stirring purrs on beds of fur

fucking hell
i love my kittens

foremost
i doth e’er aver

curse this whole contrivance
where our pen perverts our thoughts
bastardizing our expression
into ostentatious dross

which, indeed, is most ironic
even now, i must abide
by the terms of its imposing
despite how it makes me writhe

were it only that i could resist
the pretense of the mind
set upon me with insistence
i am loathe not to comply

for the state of my affliction
disallows for deviation
from its ardent homeostatic
cognitive disposition

so beholden to its power
though emboldened by the hour
i am helpless to assert my will
and thus, i lay here, dour

such finite truths
shall yet unfurl

as we await

unwitting.

the tragedy
of days, unending

the trill of earth afoot.

how tender
is the untrained eye

which falls
upon the burdened hallow

writhing
in its sense
of self

to leave this place
no more.

allow these failings

fear no loss

for freedom
bears no will

i trust.

in tenses past

imploring, e’er

with sovereignty
forsworn

if anything
i’m duly adamant
in my deciding

on the certainty
with which i know
i never knew a thing

for if i had
and still proceeded
with such heedless choices

one could only ascertain
that i too
am human

“it was i”

spoke the ire
of our yesterdays

fleeing
on the fleeting fiery sun

all-consumed
by the ruins of the apogee

long into the sea
it surely sunk

we resigned
to thus conspire

by the bleakness
of a burden

only words ambivalent
could ever shun

forever mired

in a tireless aver

naught

lest bygone reveries
confer our sum