The Need to Save Yourself

I'm afraid to tarry.

I tend to mull over dying fire.

My sensibility is wary.

Like two faults that separate- the occasion was dire.

The superiors are disquieted when the gnats make demands.

Seclusion from fruitless origins sounds ravishing.

Worthless recipients don't perceive the futility of their commands.

Hearts lay aslant because people are continually vanishing.

Pierce the tender spot that emboldens the bleeding.

Should you expect restitution, and your pragmatism will strain

Enact the defenses with haste, for my body is crumbling.

Inside the citadel, I've built for myself is where I'll remain.