God knows I'm tired
Of the violent banality of days
Unhooked of a soul
I resume each dawn my eternal task
Emptying the Sahara grain by grain
I suppose every gulp
Slurped up with a prayer
In thanks, the colour was clattered
Out of me, till nothing but raging whiteness
Plastered Ovid's paradise
I am a squeezed pipette
Lined with hydrochlorine
A jug of milk, watered down
Too poor to buy more
A tub of butter licked clean
And saved for months
I yearn for the strength
To burn out tears again
At the crushing, thundering, eviscerating
Horror of it all, there must be evil in this somewhere
Answered with the indefinitely postponed
Relief of darkness
Because if I am anything
I am afraid
The hell of love, the joy of death
All pitiful foibles en masse
As much worth as a star in a cage
Freedom is a curse
Funnelling you into the lonely fire
Per ardua ad nauseam.
@nepion_boreas17
