Cascading into the sharp ravine,
the pitfall that is my exhausted heart-
quickly depart, treasured like caffeine.
It's obscene, the paintings in my head,
not like I've ever seen, I feel so dead.

Flutters of promise snared in the wind,
starving like a shadow, yearning a touch.
Didn't say much, selfishlessly I grinned,
the butterflies thinned, ripped to the bone;
how attractive are you without cologne?

Sunlight is chancing romance away,
gasping for patience, I desperately write-
see whats inside? Stutter in your dismay.
The end of the play, there is no escape;
from the passages of doubt- that shape.

The definiton of love hides in your eyes,
persuaded by the perputrador to conceal-
nothing is real! Caught in your disguise,
ultimate demise, the walls are crumbling
in the ceremonial hall you are mumbling.

Fractured by my defeat, and restricted
from the words that seed the conclusion,
nightmare's beatiful intrusion inflicted-
wounds; afflicted from your bold silence;
nurture thoughts of commiting violence.

Compromising solutions in every breath,
chasing the evil that barricades the road
bestowed with this curse until my death.
Confess to myself, I decimate the mourners,
urgently needing a shortcut to cut the corners.

The momentum waits for the coming collapse;
angels weaping dusty tears for our broken affair,
suicide in prayer, will there be an answer? Perhaps.
Caught in all traps, I'm hindered from progression,
eagerly awaiting the answer to my question.

The windmill continues this broken story,
the answers dry, decapitated in the breeze;
Oh I ache for release, to no longer be quarry.
I beg you please, don't kiss heavens blood-
and become like me, another puddle of mud.