Let oblivion fall,

not only beneath

my flesh shuttered eyes

but in my soul,

my heart, my limbs.

Wings clipped,

my soul becomes a rock

grounding me to a heart,

that squats empty

of all false hopes,

fingers clenched into claws,

paralyzed from any further touch,

poisoned caresses

that lead to my feet

now standing alone.

Let despair

my only friend,

dwell now in the well

of my mind, 

that depression that once

flowed with the poetry

of life drawn daily,

my tongue bone dry,

but I thirst no more,

I am inebriated by pain.

I am but a grain sand,

one of many

countless minions,

slipping through a tiny 

fragile glass hole

into times emptiness

that waits below.

Art~Whimsically Yours Studio

Matthew F. Blowers III-(c)-2016