Doom and Gloom
remembrance of my death
All around, the storm clouds gather.
My dread grows as doom’s scythe falls against my naked soul.
It crushes me, and darkly my
to the thirsty earth.
In numbness I hang my head
while death approaches.
Now alone, my soul falls upon uncaring eyes.
This is my doom
Slender beams of illumination enter
this darkened chamber as I kneel,
always forlorn, always sorrowful,
Angelic forms wrought in panes of glass loom as
dust dances in the air,
forming an image in my mind,
penetrating my naked flesh.
Tears on a child’s face.
I raise my head, now railing against
this callous reality.
I am doomed here, weeping in darkness:
Flailing through this bitter void,
My heart so torn and bleak.
This desire so stricken,
A surreal darkness,
Yet I wish for
Your lips so warm.
Almost cut my hair the other day
However, some things remain sacred.
An Enigma maybe,
Contrary, well of course.