Serenity, the child of a forlorn sight…

Serenity, beckoning in the realm of closed eyes, blind and shy
As reality turns to tear away her grace, the child of a forlorn sight
Trembling I stumble to stand, looking at a figment of my mind
Amber eyed, curly locks of silk that dances within the light
Is it loneliness, illusions, perhaps the solitude of a doomed man?
Taken to hide behind the wool of sheets, ink and black sticks
Wavering on the cliff wondering on the depth of existence
Yet crystal clear is her voice, telling me not to take the plunge
Whereas I, lost in my stand tipping upon the edge, beckoning
The grime of shadows in all the sins that I have come to forget
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I see my blood drip on the stead of sand in the hourglass
Closer and closer I begin to lose my grip, knuckles bone white
Thumbscrews piercing the depths of my heart, senses excruciating
And a moment upon her essence, bearing a fragrance of her breath
There I slip from the courteous audacity of the ticking hand itself
Dusty brown and black of haze to break the strain of the conscious
Or club my wits reckoning to break the glass and so to sleep forever
Condemned to claw the air grasping at the mere ghost of a woman
Praying to eight hands of divinity each clutching my kindred crimes
I stand far from reach, a mirror in between and her on the other side
*
There is no search of the lands I lost without her hand in mine
And there be no glory in my words if not whispered into her ears
Meager are the days I live cursing the solemn mind not to pass
And I know that the reapers blade edges near upon my throat
Eyes closed but peering at the steps of a nymph-like smiling angel
Toying with a heart forged as the clash of razor edged steel
Broken shards of the sinister arm, a blind man instead of the shield
Losing my sanity as my eyes agonize upon the seven shines of blight
My serenity is within her, and far is the plane upon which she stands
Be it a babbling fool left of me, dreaming of the child of a forlorn sight
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Raw
Catch the cobwebs of the closing mage

Fading Depth

Watching the sun rise to see it drown
Miles and miles of foreseen, running far
Running away from every familiar sound
When did life catch up to my blistered feet?
When did my dreams botch and fade?
Destined to the land of asleep angels and now
Take me to the paradise where I wouldn’t be
Mesmerized on the flesh of misunderstood love
Rejected in my passions of a smirking solitude
Stains of a million hopes broken in its need
I don’t want the vultures to pick on my carcass
When I collapse on my feet, tired from the run
Searching the innocent, oblivious of the meek
Towards the shores of insanity and cigarette burns
*
Would you not take me to the darkness of kismet?
For the words I heard was less then what I could hear
And yet in the bleak of penance and silence
I found no wisdom smoking the dust of the sages
Only a day or two, before I lose my mind again and
While I’m out there, there is only one adversary
Compared to the thousand I spend in my wake
Trying to catch the fleeting lights of broken thoughts
Knowing that I wouldn’t be the man you hoped for
Running away from the glory of belonging
To be where I wouldn’t breathe the dirt thrown at me
Cigarette stubs, dregs of tea and disappointments
Of the strangers glaring at me, morose and damning
Till I fade and come to terms to the man I couldn’t be
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Raw
Chasing the path of surreal depths