Lost in seas
of tender wishes
void of fishes
only crabs
pull at the roots,
on scabby knees
I crawl through filth.
Little holds looks
of truth and flame,
only fire tendered by
swift autumn breeze
whispering in cahoots
with jabbering girls
heads bobbing with
glorious golden curls.
So consumed by mine
own fading light
the day passed like books
well-read and often, into
all-consuming night,
dripping with putrid sleaze
as the ink black sky
falls swiftly on backs
made hard by world-worn
lovers and small lovelorn
brothers crying slow.
No cloud fills my wretched
sky as the scenery flits by
borne on wings of ochre
and dust formed by low
born children from cracks
man-made and eternal.

It comes now to a place
where tears cease to drop
casually from blued eyes
and the void is all
encompassing cut
out of the picture but still
withering the untoiled crop.
No more the starry summer skies
only long and pained fall
but painless: a paradox lost.
And so it repeats.

And so it begins,
Lost in seas…