two tone shadows
of our former selves
are all that is now remaining.
now only glimpsed
amongst the darkening shades.
Growing steadily ever more threadbare,
diluted in essence of subsistence,
dispersed upon a mourning breeze
so thin and insubstantial as
a bleak winters morning mist is.
into this realm
where time is no longer available,
like lost souls in a victorian asylum
their tortured spirits destined to roam.
Forever cursed to wondering
the vagaries of profound austerity
as they’re trying so very desperately
to somehow find their way home.
chases them ever further along,
bedlams endless empty corridors,
until they reach
the darkest corners
of deprivation and depravity.
here the past’s
lies written in blood
upon the walls of her mausoleum,
walls that are lined so thickly
with all of the cold harsh realities.
heart rending screaming
depictions of fables.
the excruciating starkness
of all of the repeated failings,
hope stealing betrayals.
trying to fight the pure bare futility,
searching to find some final way out.
But any resistance just becomes
more fuel for utility,
until we’re all truly feeling
as a shout.
Try your very best to survive
then escape from
these soft warm embraces.
But paralysed prey
we’re wrapped up in a web.
So totally trapped in the
knowing much too soon comes
the end of the day
it never takes long until all that is left
is just the last fading traces,