Taking the Black

Every mountain wears down,
every storm loses its power,
every fire dies.
And I, alone in my place
have endured all that I can,
and limits have overtaken all that I am–
what’s left is not enough of me,
and all there is now is pain
and scars that are not mine;
so grant me the black,
the peace of release,
the end of eternity,
and a night in Oblivion.

Sonnet VII

In slumber I seek my solitude; for
a moment’s peace among the aether I
would offer all that my soul has viewed, and
only ask that I be allowed to in stillness lie;
I adore the lights and colors of the stage,
but weary I embrace the curtain’s fall,
and would that it were a one act play,
ere I might relax my standing tall:
and into the Sandman’s warm embrace,
my sorrow, my pain, my soul I would place.
 
 

More of a pseudo-sonnet really; plenty of rules broken, but I’m okay with that.

Untitled

And quietly, the silence ensues,
hanging over us like rain,
vengeful in its persistence
and allowing only thoughts
of shade to consume;
and in it’s being I turn
as only I can, to that place
where the only answers offered
are the ones that I hide inside–
and in the void
I find the nothing I was looking for,
because here,
and there,
I have only myself.