Twilight's Slow Attrition

The harmony and semblance of my shadow at dusk,

Filled with the untainted darkness of such serenity,

Conceivably, akin to that of wonderful dreams…

For if I now knew sleep,

I might find those unconscious paths to solitude…

But is not to rest, to be at peace with this world?

And to look out upon that world with love,

Would pertain to feigned contentment?

Inflicted now…

The worst wounds of all!

These twin abrasions, of the height of mortal sin!

Commence this final blood to flow,

And may all pain wash away in that forlorn stream,

For this is what my soul has cried out for….

"Silence pollute the sullen waning timbre of my heart,

Dull now the mortal rhythm that animates this sentience,

Leave my soul as mute, to transcend the sinking sun,

And leave behind a solemn shell to be found, dormant in shelter of death",

I know no fair apparition waits to greet me,

For I have closed my mind to the divinity behind such celestial eyes,

And now as my heart remains closed,

Thus it shall forever remain shunned,

For I have deemed halos but bonds to strangle one's spirit,

Thus privileged am I, whom by bond of blood and flesh,

Am granted the delectable frailties of mortality,

In essence, permitted to falter, to bow unto ruin,

For now I become disentangled, from such colossal torments,

For I aspire towards the drowning crimson ether,

Fraught with longing to be as one with the faltering light,

To assail the scarce refuge of my execrable matter,

And cross the threshold of damnation, the ellipse of the eternal void,

The crescendo of my screams sent roaring into the heavens,

Those painful echo's, spiralling across the mantles of the bleeding firmament,

The golden and bloody hue of the smouldering sky issues a call,

Having never valued the form for which I was intended,

My soul shall fluctuate and morph joyously as kin to clouds,

Shifting gracefully through the heavens as transient momentary patterns,

That etch upon the skyline, the unending configurations of their despair…

"Silence pollute the sullen waning timbre of my heart,

Dull now the mortal rhythm that animates this sentience…

Thus horizons shall become my gateways…."