A soul is loss....seeks an endless remorse..

A century has passed, my soul still last
lost in mute space as an empty mass
once was a king amongst the mist of ash
now just a being of less worth than brass.
Why is it that I feel like this? I can't catch
a break in my essence of life forming mess
impressed by the antics of people I test
faltering in rue of their endless acts.
The railroad tracks I walk upon mesh
into the background of the darkest black
within this scene a life form attacks
me, my soul, and thought are out matched.
The wind blows in subtle gust of passionate
sunshine laced trek as it enters my mask
I am that in which it contacts and attached
to the blood in my heart traveling entrapped
to share each breath in a circular trap
released as it interjects my recent collapse...

The roses have bled, the ashes are death
I represent them well in each breath
the more I sit here, the more I confess
the spoken word is gravely written..rest
in peace to the east as the sun shares heat
I retreat to the seas to bask in its leak
as the river I rest in foresees
a desert like quality in the coming century.
Nothing can stop the rush of karma
as the bomb becomes me, the bullet blocks the armor
this metaphor rest well and proper
I don't know anything..resting..slumber
I can't see anything...deafening martyr
I can't hear anything..blinded supporter
Speak no evil in the raging waters
drowned is my body...heaven's calling.

I warrant this to dismiss my falling
into the depths of abysmal nothing
into a decrepid grave..the cornice broken
lament the loss, now a useless orphan
in need of a place to call home in wanton
circumstances that my body once formed.
Calm...the breeze calls for alarm
the swarm of infinite voices are calling
what is the reason for this beckoning song?
I see light, now I realize the reason for this poem.....