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Cold Milk Skin
My dreams no longer hold me,
As they are a mere distraction.
Alcohol and cigarettes taint the pure shell I waxed around my brain.
Never did I think I would be standing here now,
Between dying trees and disturbed forests,
Aching for you to find me.
Past Satan's throne you may follow,
Beyond graffiti names and memories on stone walls.
Walking, searching, constantly through the maze -
To lose myself,
To leave Him behind.
I failed;
For this I am sorry, love,
As I place another stone above the dead body.
I cry for yesterday.
Rubble and underground chambers forgotten over the years,
A light which flickers dimly in the dark.
Messages whispered in long corridors;
I am lonely and need your touch.
Remaining unheard, I scream over static,
To be buried in debris at the force of my pain.
In this cemetery ground,
Beyond the forest of my invisible trails,
Is the man waiting to love his never-to-be.
In this cemetery ground,
Beyond the forest of my invisible trails,
I await my everything.
Futility As Nevermore
Dying trees and disturbed forests, Batman! I felt the desolation also in dim flickering light. This poem rides with Pathos. Masterfully done and darkly ~~A~~