In Throes of Regression

Startling, confusing reality,
Watching this dying Angel,
Spreading her wings,
Reluctantly.

Lit Candles,
Only serve to darken this scene.
Paintings on the wall meld into blurs,
A universe of moving color,
Melds with the life outside.
Black and white as time passes,
They all turn and fade to stone.
Turning back to the death of the inside

Lighting the final candle…

Diminishing light in a heavenly glow,
A demon rises out from the pale shadow.

The Devil devours her wings,

High above the spiraling sphere.
Here,
We are still here.

Rewrite the passage of time
Before you stain it once again with spilt blood
Ambiguous in nature
Amorphous to the touch
Wrapping around this emotion,
Like a filthy blanket.
Regression,
Clouding a clear vision.
Judgment shattered upon these dreams
Ambition overrun by tranquility
Fields drowned by the coming tides
And the fruit?

Long ago it died