A place for evoking dark poetry and other comforts

Remnants of Me

I’m just a shiftless dreamer
 When i  slip and fall
 the walls congeal to catch me
 Whilist these delusions become real
 holding hands with masochistic lovers
 Which had to be left behind
I found her sighing in the corner
Purloining quarters from the blind
my lady forever so unkind
my lady cutting in the quarantine line
shes never seen my shrine
Not of gods sacred garden
not of stone temple pilots
or heartless jargon
Ashes of me  cascade
As the incredibly ugly pervade
Sensibilities that easily tire
as I swirl over lurid pyres
 
 
 
Vore Space://  Another word jumble I wish to share…enjoy
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