Colored Blank

a translucent specter haunting midnight reveries

following you as you sleepwalk

to the dank, dark cavern you call

your kitchen where slain beasts are sacraficed

to appease the ones who toil away

for another day of your ill-begotten happiness.

You stare through the appirition with

wide milky eyes as you try to remember

the combination to the safe where

all your lost joys are hoarded

waiting for the day when no one can

experience elation or hate

and you will become king of the world

ruling from your crumbling castle

kept safe under the vigil of

countless dying stars as they cry

for you to share your stolen memories.

You ignore the banshees grating screams

as it slaves away to destroy your

beauty sleep to no avail.

For your beauty is more than skin deep

and you know that the multitudes

around you, formless and clear as air

are the ones who are dead

and slide through the aether

never to make it to heaven

nor will they party in hell

they will walk the earth forever

tetheres to your squalling timeline

as you are the only true spirt.

Firebrand. Visionary. Prophet.

And you have a universe of love inside

with none but the bones to share it with.

One day they will rise again

beneath dead leaves

and you will have another chance

to see what like really consists of.

Is it love? Learning? Lust? Music?

or something indescribable

as formless and shifting as

the quintessence that holds in

your ghostly form and allows

you to recount your stories

of the most trite of themes

to those with severed ears

and overflowing hearts.

Theyd listen if they knew how

just as theyd find that life after death

aint as bad as the stories say.

Those yellowed pages keep on turning.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

get a dog little longie.

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