Oh, in the dark of morn I promised you.
For he who claimed cafard can not foresee.

With escape, time stopped
and all is now one.
Man, lost and found, in full
command, control, constraint.
(But comes fatigue, and we forget what was our vow.)

You said that we are mad, yet still sane–
the perfect place to love, I supposed.
For integrity died by day’s end


the color you once were

I am now pure and cleansed of my soul
and so unlike myself–
nothing but a patient in this
painted world.
I see the plastic red and yellow; they now appear too bright.
Purpose incentives pain and through my broken
pieces, I
surrender, by nature’s last
never subject to the loud
nature I once possessed.

Heart flowing out;
blood of red
The deafening white peace seems dead.

When one’s
nightmare, now starts from the opening
of eyes.