Threads tying the wasted space
between this day and that
hang from the charred ruins
of derelict minds.

Listless faces caught
in the bowels of sable skies
seek gods, find monsters
in the saliva of needled tongues.

These things I see from the cusp
of skeletal eyes, staring
at curtains steel, drawn,
lying on floorboards painted
with the residue of blood,
the waste of broken bones,

and I cry,

"Give me water, bring me to life
set my feet free of shackles
that I may dance to a trumpeter’s wail.

Feed me grains, bring me to light
cast my eyes free of intrusion
that I may see beyond these graveyard walls."

There is then only the sound
of destiny breathing,
my ghost-heart beating,

I fear the rest of me is void.