Kyrrð

Ephemeral moments of silence
Last longer than you'd hope for
While the sun descends towards the sunken horizon
You could watch it tuck its Ochre drapes
Into the ridges between your thoughts
Precious heirlooms, time is expecting
A tomorrow that may never come
I stood before such a spectacle
Rolling the loom of my recollections for the day
All that has remained for me after the flood has passed
Are these echoes of echoes inside my brain
A distant scent of a disposition past
A wounded survivor of a noetic awakening
Orphaned children of fallen resolves
Cashing pensions of a worthless tranquility
Water receded, at last

Darkness succeeded

Droplets of inkling trickle on my nose

Fall upon a thinning icicle of comfort ,somewhere within

And when clouds align in a hint of rain
My cleanser

It never arrives
It drives me insane, this drought in the clouds
This drought in earth
This drought in humans
This drought in my being
And it still never rained, throughout the seasons 

Just like I've never regained my reign
Over reason

And I've been numb for too long

It's been quiet for too long

It's been dry for too long

It's been dark for too long

I, afraid to budge yet still nudged into moving
Never looked behind, still never bothered
To look ahead

I, in my stillness, still try
To write the way I used to, if i  could at least explain
To the throng of nought, how I came to be
But these moments of rapture at the darkest hours
Akin to summer nights and newborn butterflies
Bloom for a mere instant

The feeling never lasts, and yet the craving never dies

Words reluctant to flow, and have a color so livid

The puncture in my chest is haunted by the wicked
When I know there's been a word 
Clinging to my tongue
Like a rich man clutching at the brink of a labyrinth
His pride, and his hunger
Pumping blood into his fingers


Poetry 
Has abandoned me, at last

Seem that I've betrayed the order of rhetorics, spilled all the sentimental
And real from the nooks in my head
As I tried to heal

Used the living and the dead

Until I got my pen cursed
By the malady of the undying 

My veins never bled in black since then

The sun is drowning
Left another echo behind

Was it better when I
Used to feel everything bulging inside

Or is it better now that my time 
Has finally stopped 
?