Untitled

Here are the remnants of the warm bite of wine,
echoes on the tongue and rhythms in my mind.
The sharpness of the day and vagueness of the night
evolution from a fading era running from old light.

Fleeing from the ancient strands of heavy shaded fact
Rooting from a heart contrived of deeply shattered pact.
I am but a resonance of evanescent thought
standing solely in this sea of what such silent things have wrought.

I cannot fathom, I cannot breathe
what the tastes of closeness are and why the blood will seethe.
The strands of silver in this heart know of more than dust.
Yet ash is of my being and its gaze still blurred by rust

Obscured and yearning for the crossings, yet knowing of the calm
Not longer chasing after chains imbedded in the palm.
And here I stand in stillness, in solace I do see
the universe within them all, my devotion breaking free.

Running down the face of solitude, a prison of one's own
Behind a mask concealing joy and such adversity alone.
Wreaking contraditons, the epitome of a soul
that walks a path of forests where the twilight rays still roll.

Here one kneels unknowingly to enigmatic shame
Fading in and out of significance, in memory of bane.
And despite suppression, of such ill-depicted whim
One laughs in realms of oceans, left to requiem.