In the alcoholic eyes of mine,
I choked on your divine name
knitting dreams of your dreary arms
I kissed my own grave.
Sordid, papable walks confine me now
Cold hemisphere, stifle my pharynx.
What more I desire from the bleeding roses of lost hope?
I am back in my own dirt now.
Clustered and a parasite of cries.
©My Valiant Soul