chaos captured within;
the gaunt guise of darkness-
locked behind the red rush of
his emptied eyes.
the world winds down,
to tides of torments tripped
along the shorelines of sorrows;
he'd watched dwindle & die
in technicolor terrors
of his past.
would it end?
with time, which ticks & licks
the color from his captured soul-
slivered into prickled pieces
of reality & the dance of
it's dares of deception.
self-inflicted punishments,
providing the cold coffin-
in which you might hide
your grinding guilt...
"I'm sorry-"
Gold trophy winner
Adding your comment:
DancingRed.
"with time, which ticks & licks