No longer blessed with desire,
no longer burdened with overuse and tire.
Branching paths diverging into roads of undesired,
taking no pleasure in twisted ankles and rotting wounds.
Veiled with trees and leaves,
the roads are in a state of disrepair.
Turned from stone to gravel,
a path made from rubble,
leading us back to rome.
Back towards a broken home.
I stand still,
caught in landslide.
Dying under moonlight.
No longer haunting our old places,
no longer a ghoul lurking in the wait.
I stand still at the behest of my future looking back with a shovel.
Burying my past,
I'm desecrating my own burial.
Yet we live to tell the present.
Tell the world that my dearest darkest memories,
are no more than markers on my headstone,
no more than words carved into stone.
Changing into monster's unrecognisable,
I no longer see you the same,
as I did at another age.
Despite holding the same face,
you're a monster that I can't place,
A lurking shadow in the dark.
A lonely howl in the night.
Your name no longer hurts the same,
years from a distant past.
You're a banshee haunting from my nightmares,
you're a distant thunderclap on a mountain range.
A fault I can't quite replace,
the leaky faucet to my drain.
A friend I can't quite maim,
the rusty knife to my aching neck.
A name I can't quite reclaim,
the shaking voice to my silent room.
You're the maggots in my flesh,
the ants under my skin.
You're the whisper of a narrow future,
the silence of a nameless stranger.
The memories locked under volcano ash,
and stolen history hidden by museum keys.
You're the fall of an ancient empire.
You're the path to the fall of Rome.
YOU ARE READING
Coherence
PoetryThis is a poetry collection that is both ever updating and ever changing. This collection of poetry isn't exactly traditional or ever a solid complete piece of prose, I am ever adding and changing and morphing them into something I feel is better or...
