Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Why do I still yearn for yesterday's wine
long soured?
Why must I dream of nightmare demon
that devour
my spirit with gleeful delight
as I cower
in empty dungeons of my own design
shell shocked
all of my integrity lost
or in hock
to the keeper of lost dreams
who mock
all of my vacant tomorrows
like a rock
sinking in the scattered
debris
as I realize I will never be
free
of the past tragedies written
by me
in blood stained poetic words
for all to see.

iblieve