Lost on purpose

Hope goes forth in a lily-white dress

comes back crimson

sodden and dashed

this nightmare of my making

keeps Death and his friends waiting.

where do I go, where do I exist?

Is this a world, or a faulty paradigm?

Impossible to escape from

impossible to rhyme.

There is no sentence for

the sin of drudgery

only flickering lamps

and unmetered verses.

I am bound to my nebulous design

an impertinent slave to

my violent pleasures

and my indecent sacrifice.

So much, so soon

lost on purpose.






Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s