Decade

There are moments

infinitesimals without number

fed upon by ragged dogs

sucked dry

by dead dreams

by the labours

of misguided Hercules

These moments

bear

upon us

weighted

but empty

Shades of dreams

unknown

forgotten

suspended

above the shrill and shrieking

cries

of burgeoning warlords

summoning death in a thousand

vanities

Gone

is the gentle

voice

that called me

back

that called me

forth

from the devil’s edge

Lost

it is now

Ghost and shade and

shadow

Full of nothing but

pain

Alight with nothing but

sorrow

Calling itself

Love

Lies. Lies. Lies.

All

Lies.

Words

are all and everything and

no

thing

Their blood

pools

in the palms of your

silence

in the words you

refuse

to speak

in the chance

we had that

You

aborted

Incubus

Succubus

Mis

carriage

Un

born

Dead