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

essence drips

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,

frozen here,

waiting.

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,

Forgotten;

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.