Black, sickening waves
Flooding my bed at night,
Washing through me,
Drowning rest,
Changing dreams to mold.
And in daylight –
Unquenchable scarlet flames
Rising from hellish caverns,
Fed by disease,
Burning joy from consciousness.
A demon, alive,
Screaming in silence.
Clutching, clawing, clinging,
Calling the reluctant darkness
From the bowels of nothingness.
My garden of miseries,
Each blossom in its own time,
To decay and sour
In the collected rot
That is my existence.
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