No Semicolon

I recall with bittersweet pangs

Red like fire flowing like lava through

My mind alive with the scent of pine

And the remembrance of experience

When creativity was certain

Art

b

u

r

s

t

H

forth

And each day I love to toil over words and descriptions

For I wrought what I wanted

From nothing

Weaved and manipulated

Simple inflections

Into the greatest inscriptions

While worlds

C

r

u

m

bled and rose

At my behest

A master worker of creation

I long for beauty and

the repulsive between the lines

Red red red red

red read red dead

Nerve endings

That just end

No semicolon

No pregnant pause

Simply holding on

Then it's no more

The abyss bites at me

Mocks me

Into

Half chewed biscuits

of tales denied endings

Of Unremembered,

heightened emotions

That fal

ter

Rain

drops and blackbird song is just

Noise tremors

Through me

Dew is dampness

On my skin

But don't recall

It's No more

Master no more

Silence

Red read

dread dead

Dead

.

.

Dead