From pillar to post,
the plight of souls goes on.
From the firmament,
the ageing of the Heart perpetuates.
Down into the moroseness,
to the ocean of dread.
Far from the convection,
to the flake of false,
What i had cognizanced,
was always the Gross.
Vandalization,
Blind Credence,
A misted mist.
All Veiled,
All fell from a grace,
engulfed by the haunted Me.
Its been ages since I saw the glare,
Its been ages to the ubiquitous of mine.
Its always an ending,
but sometimes,
Its not always “the ending”...


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