x Everlasting x
The crops are dead. The guns are loaded. My blood has risen like a revolution.
I down another port and light another cigar.
I glare at the green and white tiles that shimmer in the brooding glow, garnering my anger, intensely honing my pain, balefully focusing on finding an honest answer between the existing cracks to this everlasting internal war.
I am blackened meat. I am full of hell. I am vicious like an affair. I flicker and burn in this contagious bruise.
Trust can never grow again in this scentless garden of grudges. Serpent judges mock any chances of reprieve.
The frost of absences. The dew of uncertainty. The branches of fear. The leaves of suicide.
Innocence drowns in a ferocious sea of aversion. Frozen tracks await me. The pallid moon knifes the skin of the dark.
Mirthless ghosts of my enemies are sharpening their hooks and hanging their nooses in the mirror; expressionless soldiers, murky and ruthless.
An ineffable sorrow stains the sheets of sleep. The clock strikes like a hearse arriving.
An army of goodbyes take aim for a kill.
I am not for sale.
This is where everything leaves xxx
x J J E x