That-Quiet-Guy

Flash of light Artifact in the corner of your eye Just out of sight, but always present I'm the permanence born from a moment I'm a hard learned lesson

Grip of winter Cresting cold Coat pulled tight around my shoulders Grey sky overhead The same since late October Sobered by the polar winds that whip around my head Cutting through idle thought Memories stopped dead Season of dread, soon to break Spring comes with uncertainty and flowers in its' wake

Deep sleep, akin to death Shallow breath Long pause Ancient beast in ruins Lost temple of the gods Desecrated from within Heart losing faith, tearing at the ribs This sacrifice, the last offering The tithe The whole of my being

Days of youth winding down Enveloped by the past People, places, feelings All changed, some never meant to last Fast gone to ruins Hard to grasp until it's happening Some pains are beyond soothing Abuse time and taste regret Days of youth, few remain Unsure how to spend

I've shaken off the dust, knocked the rust from the lines Reconnected to the mains I'm resharpening my mind Finding power I'd forgotten I possess Arcing, dancing on fingertips To get a grip, akin to bottling lightning I'll reach out, I'll try to hold tightly Nightly battles, alone against the current I need someone to ground me Protect each other from the surges Spikes and outages of life Together we could emanate a warm and steady light

I reach out across space, in hopes of making up lost time Starting over again, waiting for hope to pass me by Spare me a second glance I'm a sure bet Worth taking a chance Fantasy and Reality, little contradictions I offer both, minimal in friction Just meet me in the middle Make love out of fictions and solve these old riddles Perplexing existence I've wandered enough Offer no more resistance

Nineteen years of writing verse has made me rather strange They said I'd grow out of it, a juvenile phase Instead it's taken hold and become a lifelong crutch It brought the love of my life Seven letters that I lost The cost versus the benefits? It's hard to gauge the weight It's no better to love and lose I would trade every page Every poem, romantic notions I've been saving I'd throw it all away to stop this steady aching This pain, emanating from my chest Broken rhythms on the page, echoed in my breast

It seems that years have passed me by while I wandered my personal hell Now I stand alone, a facsimile of myself Faded, foxed and dogeared from years of neglect Mostly self inflicted Memory stained by regret Time spent and opportunities squandered I don't think I can take the weight of this world any longer Her voice still echoes in my head Love lost as I let her down Again and again

from the edges of obscurity comes a verse of circumstances where the sinner quests for purity with a hope of second chances but the saint has designs of his own built upon these furtive glances and with no intent to share this throne once the sinner's place advances the year of vision, yes, it broke him a man of letters, split in two his only hope was to invoke them and maybe they could get him through perhaps this moment, would unite them once more bringing them together so that no matter what incites him whatever storm, he could weather but as he lay among the fallen no sense of comfort, warmth or peace he placed his bet there, going all in hoping his suffering would cease and yet, the distance, just grew further between the sinner and the saint a sad and foreboding precusor to days the dark knew no restraint the year of vision, yes, it broke him man of letters now divided he held to words that went unspoken never meant to be recited from the edges of obscurity comes a verse of

did you ever even care want to see me at my best think that you were playing fair just with cards close to the chest believe that you had no strings that you were not being pulled that you did the greatest things weren't the foolish or the fooled acted out of interests that were not purely your own did you really do your best and see a duty, not a throne see something to live up to that went beyond a title not just what it could give you or you feel you're entitled was it all smoke and mirrors tiny bit of sleight of hand your legacy gets clearer with each unprincipled stand in the wake of voices raised that you cannot spin to lies cannot sell as words of praise or dismiss what you despise eighty million plus people seven surplus'd, piling up rejecting fascist steeples telling you, your time is up but you refuse to hear that crying legless in the courts won't face the truth, you fear that as do each of your cohorts so you keep setting fires to undermine and disrupt it's what your love

here in this familiar strife without means to circumvent selling pieces of my life so that I might pay the rent the weight it pulls me under the surface parts to take me no riches they may plunder and so they seek to break me having outlived my purpose with nothing but art to give pulled further from the surface farewell's all that I can bid the weight it pulls me deeper the surface, a fading light where costs become much steeper than can ever be made right I thrash against my descent but the fall is never slowed in all, just one more reason that I have for letting go drowning, the pressure building tightening around my chest you always hold on longer when you are on your last breath here in this familiar strife without means to circumvent selling pieces of my life so that I might pay the rent the weight it pulls me under with no way I can shake free no wealth that they may plunder so they settle to break me having outlived my purpose with nothing but art to give and once it's been