unfinished

Thick dark clouds,
cling to the sky
like a death shroud
ominous reminders
of changing times

The sun,
an unwanted companion
as I wander
through my thoughts
not knowing where
one begins
and another ends,
begs for the chance
to burn away
this darkness,
but I have turned my back;
no light will shine this day

Somewhere, in this barren
land of my thoughts and dreams,
I hear the cry of a lone crow
that spectral bird
haunting me with its call
at once both repulsive and alluring
to lie down, to sleep would seem
pure simplicity

I feel used and wasted,
refuse to be left on the roadside
to be picked at by scavengers
torn to shreds for the taste
of death
yes, to sleep would be
almost graceful now

so I consider the shroud
over my head, thick and dark
and I invite the the wrapping
as I feel the embrace of pain and cold
followed closely by life sapping
numbness