DRAINED, STILL FLOWING

Angry voids 
Flashing colors 
I disturb their peace 
Flaming reds 
And dreadful blacks 

In a deadly dance

Of caprice

It’s a dank place 
Of dead odours 
That leaches your soul-
its prey 

Here comes
Another trophy 
To add to its pile 
Of empty grey 

They got frisky rivers 
To stop 
In mid stride 
The wind 
Forgot to breathe 
The stench of 
Decaying collar bones 

Permeates
The tender green 
Of spring leaves 

In the quicksand 
Of soggy broken dreams 
They try 
To snare my feet 
It’s a prison 
But I'm not going to drown 
In the whirlpool 
Of despair's cracked conceit

Let it rain dry splatters 
Across my face 
Let me drench 
In cinders' flood 
But I will break the chains 
Of desolate ghosts 
I'll pay 
For my precious freedom 
In blood. 

MS