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May 2018

Cold Comfort
May 30, 2018

It's a good night
to be lonely
not a cloud in the sky
sanctimonius whispers
twirl in shadows
unlit by
grey candles
high up on the sands
while down by the water
the flesh is drained
by the colorless
moribund
cloak of the sea.
Exhaling emotions
onto mirrors of moonlight
winds gasping at
blurred and gaping
wounds of the song
drowned shallowly
in slivers of silence
dissolved
by swaying
in darkness and
dampened spirits.

No sounds,
no signs
no personage
left but the
sinking of nails
into scars, sands
slithering back
within retreating whorls
ground glass
slipping through sliding
perceptions.

Reverence of nothing -
only noticing now
that what's never left
behind
was never there.
A black bird disappears
over unseen horizon,
wings osculating cold stars,
a funereal shiver -
for what's left to know?




Wandering the Empty Corridors Of the Mothership
by Zombalaya
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