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Eternal Sleep Somehow it seems even the stars weep tonightEternal Sleep by ~to-the-catacombs
their glistening tears falling to the pavement below
hard, melancholy, and ever solitary in their presence.
Outside she sits quietly on the porch
letting the mute patter of rain sing her to sleep,
baptizing her with its presence.
Awake now, rejuvenated and new
she takes her first steps out into the world
lifting her head up to the heavens,
drinking their salty tears like wine,
then collapsing lovesick and drunk to the dirt.
Pools of mud gather at her feet and hips;
tiny puddles that threaten to swallow her up whole,
melting her down, down until nothing of her would be found.
Rejoicing
Humanity A frozen moment with no end in sightHumanity by ~to-the-catacombs
leaves many feeling ravaged in its path.
Each perched eagerly on the edge of their memories,
vying to return to the sweeter times before
separated, by their immobility, from the human race
as if willing themselves forgotten.
It’s true that we all make mistakes
and each will have to pay the debt of our decisions,
but to live so secluded, thus emblazoned,
is perhaps a fate worse than imaginable.
To exist a breath from humanity,
without the ability to perform the act of being human
is the cruelest fate
reserved for only those in death or courting destruction.
Anonymity Greeted here before you thus,Anonymity by ~to-the-catacombs
I wonder what cruel similarity forced our existence.
Time will only teach us that our similarities are our downfall,
Pegging us as a part of the human race
With neglect to individuality.
Some days our pattern of breathing is the only thing apart.
That small intake of breath the only barrier to anonymity
And our thoughts merely breed the essence of humanity,
Thinking differently from no one in existence before.
Trying so hard to fit in, it’s no small miracle that any end up different.
Snapshots Paging through the snapshots behind my eyesSnapshots by ~to-the-catacombs
I swear I’ve seen this story one too many times.
The pages tear under my frantic hands
searching for the answers I doubt I will discover
praying that an answer exists for my troubled mind.
But once more I am left to ponder a life uncaptured,
when the value of existence is established in memory
and the sheets have gone blank when they get to you.
My brain bays like the lonely wolf at the moon,
enraptured by the uncertainty of what it’s looking for
and for a brief moment I forget that I’ve forgotten about you.
I forget that in my memories you’re a blank passage
filed i
Sta.sh
