I find myself between life and death
in defeat, headaches wearing me out,
after throwing myself at the moon,
it admired my heart like a child with
fingers scorned by a raging fire
beckoning my busy bad days,
and stroppy sounds seize my ears.

I find myself striving sore to survive, and
the busyness bans the breath of my healthy heart,
hulking huge hours pass through my mind,
I buried my head to free the ferocity,
after self-suffering in the truest test of sincerity.

I find myself between life and death,
dragging my life to somewhere quiet,
where there are no volition desires of vision,
and my old orders change to yield new places,
where the angels fear to tread
drowning my fears to fanned fire by force,
unrest my backache, pains, and sorrow.

I find myself hither and thither,
every night, again and again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Photo by Jakob Owens on Unsplash