The Resident

In the midst of my journey, I’ve contracted
A villainous disease, tearing away at me
While I stare out into a world, I can no longer
Grasp, for it baits me further into emptiness,
Starved from exploration, in seclusion, Withering inside the shell of death
Carving days gone, into my surroundings,
Shut in, as deterioration shows its face to me,
This curse, has bound me to the heavy clock
That struck twelve before I wound the heart,
Memories stolen right from my clutch
By the trickling absolute, crawling
Along the spine of the bruised plane,
Making its web thick over corrosion,
Lifting life, out from every nerve left pulsing,
The window gets tighter, in the span
There are fewer things felt and seen,
A stationary ladscape, one I can not climb
In an exploration of its sights, it’s majesty,
The shadows hush over me, desecrating
My hollow dome, slowing pace while
Spreading this contagion to the surface,
My host, crippled by the shackles
Around him, purging all he has accomplished
To drown into depths never seen,
Atop that mountain, before we broke
Is where we left ourselves, to now mourn
Memories never to be remembered
In the fading, down at the bottom by the dirt,
Ready to be lowered into eternity,
We explored, but can’t recall the Arctic chill,
We felt the crumble of stones beneath our feet
But can’t find the scars it left, with these Wrinkles, crowding the painted canvas,
Laid to rest, the journey ends without effect.

©DorianPoe2016

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