Zen Void Of Stars
Loneliness
Is Zen
Void of stars,
Yet I suppose
That the show must go on
And leap her rude disenchantment
And gaudy charade
Over the bladed rain’s
Waterspout sadness,
Disarmed iron madness
Now colander soul
Unable to willfully cleave
To love’s slow train fade
Through the horrid suckling
And teasing drain,
Bone splintered heart awash
In silver star apathy,
My lone seat
Sunken beneath
The violent collapse
Of dusky frame,
Victim
To the creeping vermillion giant
Of another amnesia cloaked day,
Spitting out bolts
Ash licked grey,
Where hell’s boiled mounds
And heaven’s honied skies
Serve fate’s salted ire
Yet both taste the same.
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