Passing By

I

live in a labyrinth

of

words and crooks,

hanging in cages

I

carelessly overlook.

Escaping the

paralyzing eyes,

I

cross a

web of lies.

Bundled at the

core of the glossy

web remains a

knife.

I

turn and sigh.

My back is fine.

The River Of Time

washes away,

My solitude

is in

peril!

I

wander the

labyrinth

a little

more.

I

stumble

across a

blackhearted widow

crawling about.

I

turn and sigh.

My back is fine.

I

wander the

wondrous abyss,

despite the gushing clock.

I

stroll for

seconds, and

duck and dive the

hours.

My past

is dying out.

I

sit on

this conspicuous

bench.

In Eden

I

flip through words

which float above

my pneumatic breath.

I

cease and let out

a humble puff

upon this masterful

bench.

The last honest gasp

it seems I’ll have.

I

look down at my chest.

My bloody vest!

I

turn and sigh.

My back is fine!