Haunted by what never was what never could have been the burdens of a weary soul dragging down again. All I ever offered was never quite enough and all I have to show for that is silent broken love. So nothing now is all that I can be, no words, no voice, no presence at... Continue Reading →


But for a word or a whisper, a breath of forgiveness I gave but could not receive, you could have saved me with nothing but time; and though you'll heal know I will not, for no secrets kept will escape this soul: I shall bear to the end your scars and my sins.


There is a certain peace that comes with knowing forever ends as it begins: Resolution to a quiet resolve where courage once failed offers hope where none is else offered. Epitaphs are only ever written as an afterthought, forgetting all but memory, and what will never be. So the poet writes his own, knowing what... Continue Reading →

Passing On

And silence, in all it's painful beauty, is what will remain when the echoes fade, and memories with them shall pass into nothing; only then, and only then, will I find my peace and in forgetting be forgotten, given to the Void and to Oblivion, only when nothing remains.

Babylon Calling

I need her: The fat, rich whore with all her vices and distractions, the endless promise of forgetting and being forgotten, loved and tossed aside, and lost to a multitude of sins where no one will notice-- or even care. To be blinded by color and sound, light and noise, a vicious chorus of life... Continue Reading →


The void internal: an empty expanse, only a reminder of what was and now is not; a loss of blood, a loss of soul, a loss of being, remains the cold; and there is nothing to stop stop the egress of a heart with nothing to hold it, and protect it from itself; if there... Continue Reading →

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