Terra Firma

I died, forgotten by eternity; forever before birth
Mine is but one - an entire life in every breath.

All the same; all of difference in every future, past and present.
I am death, gnawing into it’s own birth,existing as a past;
less future of prelived eternities and unborn pasts.

A constriction of anger infests me as razor blades of misery,
slicing the tender skins of my secret selves. . .

Blood dripping masterpieces of hatred
on the hand-woven carpet of my slippery path forever unwalked upon.

A dark sun hangs brightly in my beautiful skies,
locked in my shrouded tomb of memories.
Vapours of unfulfilled dreams grace my final breath
remembering my death at birth.

A single memory clutched in the hands of he who slowly dies
a life afraid of its own dreams waiting for finality.

Living a purposeful failure obsessed of escape,
instead of choosing despair, forever dreaming of a soul;
woven in silk, forever unwashed.

Livening its owner at every breath
Sucked into a vacuum of darkness
I fight for breath but find none,for
I was born the day I died. . .