Thursday, November 22, 2012

Heart of Darkness

     Raise this fickle heart from yet another post apocalyptic nearly dead experiences. Know thy watchful eye beckon pursuit, Statue of the forlorn resurrection of he clearly seen but rarely interacted, thus walking invisible, attempting to find my queen.

     Bare with this old poetic recluse, whose self proclaimed intricate words repulse rather than recruit as the strings beckon to be plucked upon the heart, from the shadow invisible realms forlorn but rarely in dismay I await, or someone... for one... to claim it.

     Waking me from this tainted dreamscape state of content affairs of the soul's affiliation with solitude, a drought that I seem to adore.

In earnest anticipation of,