As this mermaid of chaos charms your heart,
On the precipice of this, silver bluff.
A shawl of platinum, guides a despair that engulfs.
The saddle of such heavy, marble demands.
For that beacon of rust, entrance's.
A sigma of blight upon each other.
Thus surrender, to that boreal tip.
These years of spears, of absence.
Yeilding to that apex, is your flesh and bone.
Dead bells emerge, from this comatose bliss.
You climb out of the hypnotic suite.
Now, a journey of balanced retreat,
Remission comes from afar, and replaces false portraits.
I take on green imposters daily
I fight to stay alive
I endure, I endure
I survive, I survive.
©Tracy Webs
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