Darker
The waste of time
Or the race
To meet the sublime
Which clock ticks
A faster pace
Seconds and hours
Til days and deaths do us part
Til your heart is broken or beaten or stops beating
Brought to the end by fears
Larger than your existential mad man prayers
To no god
To something other
Words, books, papers
Written by scribes and tellers, marketers
Then adjusted by editors, lecturers, teachers and preachers.
You are broken down beaten blue
Your mind aged with resistance
Spoken words repeated often
Becoming darker and darker
You seeking to find affirmation
For the price you pay
For the languishing existential boredom
You’ve created from the forlorn
Worn words you play with on your page
That confirm over and over
Your righteous stubborn position
Your need to hide and never confide even to yourself
What you offered
What you suffered.
The days of easier access
Now denied taken from you by your own need
To be cruel
To be snide
A cover you’ve perfected
Now a sheet of steel
There’s no way forward or back there’s no deal with the devil
Or with god
There’s just this space
And your lust to erase all things good and instead
To pass the time in carefully constructed
Meticulous despair