~purge777
Lukas W. Robertson
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BurnMidnight is mine to burn. Birthday candles turn to funeral pyres Tearing the dark an apex of life, expanding starlit horizons. I relish in my words enlightened by their pain,Burn
honestly sadistic and staring back at me. Midnight is mine to burn, ashes to stir or bring to waking life.
I’ve almost forgotten the lick of flame that summons pain
to life…again.
We rise above clouds from birthday candles to funeral pyres, We burn the night.
by ~purge777
VerveThe chorus of my soulVerve
declares chaos. I am the tattered wings
of regret
circling a soon-to-be
crash site of ego. Burning wreckage of
humility – extrapolated
at climax.
I have ambled the remains of hearts, who gave blood for sake of love; I’ve danced with their lonely remains, tasted bittersweet kisses from passion-parched lips. Their life burns brightest, giving birth to…death. A tattered, spiraling descent toward another verve of
vivid oblivion.
by ~purge777
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