Poem Nation.

Spent eternity dying.

I was adrift in a black mist

victim of sorrow and pain,

Stooge of an agony so slow

That rove through each vain.

I was buried under my shipwreck.

I was prisoner of the ocean beneath.

Ponderous weights pulling me down

while I restlessly fought to breathe.

Then my sight became dimly lit,

And my thoughts conquered me.

I couldn't find the pieces to fit

for the puzzles I always flee.

And so my wings were gashed down

And my hopes turned to ashes.

I fell inside a prison of my own

With a door that never unlatches.

Now I spend eternity dying

like the burnt branches of a tree,

With a sky inked way darker

Than the night oughts to be.

{s.m}