Thursday, February 19, 2009


thou shalt not follow the queering voices of Nether .

the black hole . absence . truancy . and more void within .

it's emptiness longs fervency . it's desolation entices the curious .

they're alluring forces of the greatest . enchantment of the wrong kind .

insinuating and invasive . evocative and intorently redolent .

sweet aughts of your fiend will tingle the blind taste of reminescence .

the wistful wickedly lusts unconscious hope .

drawing on . drawing near . drawing close .

almost too close . Too close, maybe, for comfort .

nothing is there . and nothing will ever be .

lusting for the abyss ?

extrication, your best bet .

Hope for life, i would suggest .



the black hole i know as my Mind, beckons .

2 comments:

  1. The soul mourns a soulful moan,
    Lost; yet a skill it hones.


    WHERE ARE THE RAINBOWS IN THIS JOINT?

    ReplyDelete
  2. they've dissipated along with something i used to know as my heart .

    ReplyDelete