Trembling as a chilled wind in the morrow wake,
Alone in a inexperienced world auspiciously fake,
Deafened by the hollowed itching screams of a forgotten tomorrow,
Seizing a sun’s light which bestows the emptiness of a lasting sorrow.
An energy of a lesser god protrudes through every seam,
Death and all his company pry within by false means.
Apprehension distills each frenzied movement made,
No hope attained where each lifeless silhouette once laid,
Yet doubt seeps through the corners of my mind,
Like life’s stains will forever viciously bind.
The instability of a wingless fly invades,
As paralysis and sightlessness maliciously cascade,
A rage swarms the absent nothingness as a prisoner’s shackles bound,
No longer heard, no longer sound.