slumbering in the fires

in this twilight it seeps into my marrow. i can feel its darkness set into my skeleton, it reconfigures the bone, my structure. as t...

now the shadows speak softly the night slithers away. and it is usually in these predawn hours that i long for the eternity of ...

how we loved the yearning of the views unbroken

...and from the earth lightning cracked into the ruinations of the extinct sky

the gift of the six golden kings grows into our empty dawn

floating through the black mists of our feigned sanctity

the pining rain and the hot tar roofs

the embers of hope slain by our enterprise glow dimly in the choking night

now we build towers for our wilting hearts

a melancholy descent

through the days of the golden light we spoke of salvations

sturdy oaks groan whispers of hope

those places of your slumber crackling with fire

when the skies are thick, and oily, and black we shall gather sunlight through the windows of our dreams

drowning in the rains all the ghosts achromatize into the mountains of my memory

lumps in my throat grow when the stars revolve around my heart

the nightly pyre all dressed up in sweat melted fat

sitting here in the fumigating night. a thought blazes across the dome of my skull. another, then another. i ponder this world i ...

i take pictures everyday every single day mostly of the skies to evidence the fate of come what may not unlike the Colonel in his cen...

i can feel it change it's in these shifting seasons. it's in the orange glow of the cities beneath the billowing skies. ...