Passing By
I
live in a labyrinth
of
words and crooks,
hanging in cages
I
carelessly overlook.
Escaping the
paralyzing eyes,
I
cross a
web of lies.
Bundled at the
core of the glossy
web remains a
knife.
I
turn and sigh.
My back is fine.
The River Of Time
washes away,
My solitude
is in
peril!
I
wander the
labyrinth
a little
more.
I
stumble
across a
blackhearted widow
crawling about.
I
turn and sigh.
My back is fine.
I
wander the
wondrous abyss,
despite the gushing clock.
I
stroll for
seconds, and
duck and dive the
hours.
My past
is dying out.
I
sit on
this conspicuous
bench.
In Eden
I
flip through words
which float above
my pneumatic breath.
I
cease and let out
a humble puff
upon this masterful
bench.
The last honest gasp
it seems I’ll have.
I
look down at my chest.
My bloody vest!
I
turn and sigh.
My back is fine!