Your lettered confession the incantation that traps me in psychosis, keeps
Me waking.
In the stoic still, I'm churning, thinking. Awareness engulfs me in embrace,
Blinking its battered eyes under the bruised and brooding night sky
...
Societal issues, adorned with obtrusive stitches.
Seven in sodom still in the trenches,
Entrenched in the fissures
Of a stand still stent, rebelling the venerated tenure
...
I am myself no more
While waltzing the starlit pores of the maimed moor,
Miming the maestro's virtuosity
While leaning lightly on the moon's magnificent score.
...