The Bad Trade Poem by Joshua Bantum

The second you lose grip
on passions strong pull

It triggers the fall
descending you into the troughs of denial

A squalor of saturated filth
of motionless actions
meaningless movement

Where hope is a child inside
That you've drowned

The moment you lose sight
or what you love
Is when
denial sets in

A dark seed
you've bedded beneath the soul
Blindly

And you still think about me,
and see me
But all I see
is purity behind eyes
that is fading quickly like the aging dawn.

You are strangling it
Whringing the sunlight out,
You are drowning it
Letting the abyss flood in