Graveward

Gaze upon carcass in the looking-glass

My flesh, an indicator of the felicity of youth 

Unfortunately tampered with conceit and crass, 

Product and pigment, vestige of truth 

Faltering vessel punctured with paltriness 

Grotesquely papery purple patterns pricking me to the marrow

In a desperate cry for my soul to harness

the strength to sustain this swamp of sorrow 

To shine a torch on my aphotic eye 

I see myself languished in the cemetery of fractured fantasies 

Marching with a mouthful of maggots, intending to pacify

this woeful skeleton wringing within my tomb of internal catastrophes 

Chained against the catacomb walls

Ruins and rubble of a madman’s facet 

Drifting along the dark labyrinth halls

Selfishly, my speck of solace remains in a casket 

Lured towards the lonesome sea 

By stars that died before they could align 

Drowning the memoir of Annabel Lee 

A positively gothic demise of my own design