Throttled Zenith

Death is but the beginning
of the end:
the chapter unfinished.
Love undiminished,
a temporary hiatus
of existence.

Somewhere the cosmos weep,
Mortality’s cruel discrepancies –
tears birthed from misrecgonized immortality.

If only
imperviousness throbbed beneath skin,
perhaps bones and broken wills would never exist.
Time is but the sand diminishing,
the legacy we birth.
With every infinitesimal second of genius—
existence thrums in those moments of creation.

Farewell,
for Life is the act of seizing,
a transitive verb unceasing.
Breathe but the hint of loneliness,
the struggle of coping
in the unrelenting war-time of being:
never alone.

Effin Attenuation

Cold
wood flowers

shiver

early above

Purple
Song Creek.

Carpentry within Cognitive Monochromia

Time strains credulity,
restrains the mire of neutrality—
when explosive compounds called Desire
regenerate on notions of expansion,
the material propulsion of necessity
shall rue the day of temperance:
wreathing all in miasmic mendacity.

Words suffice
within the lovely vice
of intelligentsia.
A moment of repose,
bespoken of cantankerous woes
unearths wisdom
hidden
amidst voracious calamities.

Let diseases win,
a contagion of kin,
eradicating dignity
with false precision.
The vindictive decisions
of pragmatic prisms
reside in dogmas outdated
—carpenters uncouth and jaded—
will resurrection upon a brighter hue,
one bereft of antediluvian idiocies—
a pure epiphany
of unfettered dignity.

Time permits a momentary ignorance,
reclaim it
or indulge the baleful withering.