I am the one, the fallen bastard son
I'll step inside
Sensations, curse me and my ways
Force-feed me blind on empty
Engulfed within somnolence
Submerged within chimera
In isolation I wander
To
Why do I look to you?
To redeem and fulfill
And it came again, like tears for a long lost
All hail! The phrase of tainted prose
The etchings that cover
Seven whispers silent
On scathing winds the seven whistlers tune
Seven cries,
After the reasons came and went, and swept across
The face
I'm so sorry to hear of your bitter loss
I
As the moon creeps forth to pierce the clouds
And it's
Stained by the wine
A celebration guilt in ordinary time
Profaneness enshrine,
