The end of April beneath grey skies

If I hit the ground before I see those eyes

Let me have stillness if but for a moment

Let her fall ever so gently into torment

Ignite the moment with us together

One is lighting the world in a fever

You have become the monster terror

Tearing the wings of angels in fervor

The end of April beneath grey skies

Hope she prays hard that she is not denied

As you dare to judge so righteously

You are more apt to bend, your own unruly

As not to rock the strong who condemn

You may be listed hung out to dry to make amends

For their errors faults and omissions

The end of April under grey skies

Are in attrition

For no wrong committed against the world

No wrong committed the punishment still unfurled

The end of April beneath these stars

Would rather be home than alter her scars

The end of April under an empty moon

Cool blue twilight void of candle light specks

The charred remains of yesterday she sweeps the ashes

With the darkening flowing the brim she sweeps

And under the brambles hides her fears

Retains her composure and walks into the light

She never returns eternally lost

Swallowed by the fucking void

17.

The dark is a candle in the light

Throwing shadows against the silk of time

Like soot smeared against a baptism gown

Letting you know where it all began

The charred remains of all you touched

Conspire to end you, obligated

The company that chased you down

Was allowing you the path you ran

When you saw the finish line

It all came to make sense to you

You just wanted to drown yourself in the baptismal fount

Take as many worms as you could

As you could stuff in your mouth

Cause heaven is a self-righteous fantasy

And hell well the world lit the fire on that one

And as there’s nothing else

Cheers pour more gasoline on the fire

I’m chilled.

18.

Charred remains left at my feet

The day took the breath out of me

Turned up the furnace and the heat

The sun set up high after clouds

Chasing stars and moons left at her feet

It left me wandering the moors within

Cursing the damp the aches the wishful thinking

As I look down upon charred remains

Ask me if the fisted madman

Would have been the cure for what ailed me

Or perhaps just walk into the storm

And take the lightning lottery

Hope to turn this constellation of crap

Into those charred remains that sink

Into the burning earth under smoldering ground

Ghost-like steps remove us from here

And the sand under our feet becomes glass

The breath and vine creep into your head

Rooting out what gives light and Angels’ flight

Impaling with a rush the beauty of this flaw