on the cusp of the knell,
his knuckles clench
onto the hues
that fade in daunting
progressions
scarlet c***ades
upon his helmet of humanity
turn to dismaltude
unjustly, for his time
creeps away like
the mounainline of the EKG
he holds on his chest
a tarnished trinket
containing memories
fading to greyscale
before him-
but his eyes cannot see
beneath the dark cloaks
that weigh so heavily
he tries
but the world goes shut.
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