Echoes forgone or voices hereafter ?
I am hardly able to differentiate now,
In this contaminated land of sufferings,
I am but a transient man with broken vows.
Those words were fomented in me,
Ones of hateful sins and obscenity,
The choir conceals the shrill desire for the grails,
A far cry from the stampede of actuality.
Living are those who forage for the Purpose,
The languid, I ween, a stalwart dead within,
And I can now descry the dark smudges of horizon,
Muddled betwixt the venomous ocean of sin...
©insomniac_
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