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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.
