In the alcoholic eyes of mine,

I choked on your divine name

knitting dreams of your dreary arms

I kissed my own grave.

Sordid, papable walks confine me now

Cold hemisphere, stifle my pharynx.

What more I desire from the bleeding roses of lost hope?

I am back in my own dirt now.

Clustered and a parasite of cries.

©My Valiant Soul

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